It Sounded Anything But Holy
by Tinybookworm
Summary: A collection of one-shots about Lana Winters and Sister Mary Eunice. Reviews are greatly appreciated and encouraged. Furthermore, feel free to leave a prompt in the reviews or at my tumblr; effietriinkett. Thank you and enjoy:)
1. Nun the wiser

**Feel free to leave me a prompt at my tumblr (effietriinkett) or in the reviews! I take any form of fictional ahs raulson. Enjoy!:)**

**Please note: sister Mary Eunice is NOT possessed in this chapter.**

Nun the wiser  
Screams. Briarcliff held hostage to a wide variation of terror-ridden sounds. Their voices ranged from high to low, depending on age, sex and how frazzled your brain was. You can judge how sane a person is by their screams. For example, Lana Winters. If one read between the lines of her screams, one would discover a fairly young woman, desperate for success. Which made sense, after a life time of hiding away, when you discover the power of exposure- one wants to make sure the right things are revealed. Lana's screams were fairly new to Briarcliff. Having been hospitalised there for little more than a week, both inmates and staff were slowly but surely adapting to her high pitched noises of horror. She lay in her bed after hearing one of the sisters walk past without a second glance.  
_They're barbaric_, she thought to herself. _What human can walk past another without a desire to help? _Lana sighed. Her throat was burning, complaining from lack of water. She reprimanded herself, after all, it was her own fault. She should've known better than to cry out. No-one would help her anyway.

Sister Mary Eunice was just finishing her nightly rounds. The lantern she held in her grasp did a good job of highlighting her features. The girl simply defined pure, her wispy blonde hair tucked under her coif, only allowing her bangs to frame her porcelain face. Her cheek bones cut into her face, and the candlelight contoured her features kindly. Pale, unaltered lips were slightly chapped, and her glistening blue eyes were captivating. Simply, sister Mary Eunice didn't truly realise how pretty she was. The black habit trailed lightly over her ankles. The crucifix hit against her chest with each step as she inspected each room of the woman's ward.

This was a nightly routine. The nun was accustomed to the inmates desperate pleas for freedom, family or any kind of contact. Mary Eunice felt a sense of pity for the patients, and sometimes a longing to reach out for them- especially ones like pepper. However, she knew it was forbidden, and her God forbid sister Jude found out. Even the thought scared her. Walking down the corridor, she eventually reached the end of the hall and looked in the final, lonesome cell.

Lana was crying. Silently. Everyone knows that everyone cries- especially in Briarcliff. However, Lana's crying was different. It wasn't mentally forced, or sounding. Often, people cry because they want attention, either they're hurt or afraid- that was normally the case at Briarcliff- but Lana was crying simply because she couldn't stop; Sat, curled on the floor in silent pain. Mary Eunice's compassionate nature taking over her sanity, she knocked on the cell door.  
"Miss Winters are you alright in there?" She immediately regretted her words. Of course she wasn't alright! Mary Eunice closed her eyes and sighed at her own stupidity.  
"Alright? Alright?! No I'm not 'alright'! I want to go _home_. Back to _Wendy_." Lana shouted from inside.  
Sister Mary Eunice jumped at Lana's aggressive tone. She tutted to herself and quickly let herself in to Lana's assigned cell. _Now's_ _your time to show sister Jude you_ _can be tough_, Mary Eunice thought to herself.  
"Miss Winters, you're going to have to go to bed now. There are strict rules in place, which need to be applied," Mary Eunice said sternly, walking over to the bed and throwing back the scratchy covers as an invitation for the reporter to get it.  
"I'm not tired," Lana said quietly. "I'm not even meant to be here, it's just my bad luck," Sister Mary Eunice furrowed her brow. She was certain Lana was correctly put into Briarcliff. She distinctly remembered the conversation she had had with Sister Jude about Lana's condition when she first was hospitalised.

"Why is she here, sister Jude? I thought she was reporting on our bakery?" Mary Eunice had asked.  
"So did I sweet child. Although all she wanted was a scoop on our dearest bloody face," sister Jude's tone was tired, hoarse.  
"No! What's her condition to be a patient though? I thought she seemed mentally well, I saw no prob-"  
"-Miss Winters is a sinner, sister. 'Man shall not lie with Man' the same goes for women, you know that," sister Jude told Mary Eunice.  
"I'm sorry sister Jude, I had no idea..."  
"You run along now, I'm sure Dr. Arden will want you for one thing or another," A dismissal.  
"Yes sister Jude,"

"I- I'm sure you are, sister Jude-"  
"Sister Jude's a liar," Lana spat, "and she'll do anything to save herself. Sister Mary Eunice saw the weariness in Lana's eyes. Her heart melted, and she had no idea as to why she was feeling this way towards an inmate. There were many she has felt sorry for before, but this was a different feeling. Sister Mary Eunice walked over to the reporter and crouched down to her level.  
"Are you lonely?" She asked quietly. Lana nodded solemnly.  
Sister Mary Eunice smiled sadly, "so am I"  
Lana looked confused for a minute, and then realisation dawned in. The reporter's eyes met the nun's in a mutual understanding. _Of course she's lonely_ Lana thought, _everyone's lonely in this hell-hole._  
Sister Mary Eunice shook her head out of the daze.  
"Right! Come on now, bed!"  
Lana smiled and obeyed her. As she got into the cold bed, the nun started to walk away. Quickly, Lana grabbed the sister's soft hands, causing her to turn abruptly.  
"Stay," Lana whispered. It was a beg. Sister Mary Eunice sighed.  
"Fine, but only for a few minutes- I have to complete my rounds,"  
Lana nodded and moved over so the blonde could sit with her. Reluctantly, Mary Eunice sat beside her. Sensing her apprehension, Lana laughed tiredly.  
"Do you think I'm going to try it on with you?" She asked. Mary Eunice looked at her, the close proximity was certainly making her blush. She shook her head.  
"No, you're already with a woman?" She said, it was more of a question than a statement.  
"Wendy, I love her"  
"You can never love people as much as you can miss them,"

Suddenly, Lana leaned forward and delicately pressed her lips on Mary Eunice's. The nun let out a gasp, before hesitantly returning the kiss. After a few moments, Mary Eunice broke their lips apart. /div  
"I shouldn't have done that," she whispered with heavy breaths.  
"Why not?"  
"It's a sin,"  
"Did you enjoy it?"  
Sister Mary Eunice hurriedly rose from the bed and paced towards the door. Opening it, she bid goodnight to Lana and left her alone once more in the darkness, and then the screams began once more.


	2. Nun the Wiser ptII

**I was asked for a continuation where Mary confronts Lana so here goes:**

Nun The Wiser  
Like the persistent _Dominique_, Sister Mary Eunice kept replaying the kiss between herself and Lana over and over. And if that wasn't torturing enough, sister Mary Eunice actually felt _something_ towards the inmate. The feeling was unfamiliar to her, and certainly not welcome. However, every time Mary Eunice reminisced the soft feel of Lana's lips, or the warmth of her touch in the dark and lonesome asylum, the nun longed for it again.

It was all very confusing.

The day room was hectic and madness was present as an everyday occurrence in there. Of course, this was a madhouse after all. Timidly, Mary Eunice walked among the patients and more often than not, placed a gentle hand upon a shaking shoulder. Inmates were often lost in mourning of their fate here or had disappeared into their own crazed mind. Every time Mary Eunice offered compassion for any of them she scolded herself. Sister Jude ruled the asylum with an iron fist and Mary didn't even have an iron little toe. How anyone could not feel sadness for these beings was confusing to Mary Eunice.

Pepper waved and hugged her as she walked past, emitting a natural smile onto the nun's face. Her special little project had most certainly been a huge success- she was so proud of the pinhead. True redemption shone in Pepper's eyes and Mary Eunice was certain the murderess had been touched by the hands of God. It was astounding, what the Lord could do.

Spivey was as gruesome as ever. Shouting filthy, sexual words at her. Mary Eunice shook her head quickly and covered her eyes as she sped past the pervert- who still continued to shout obscenities long after she'd gone.

Finally, Mary Eunice spotted a familiar red couch holding hostage to a patient wearing an even more familiar red cardigan. The wearer wove in and out of the nun's dreams, both day and night, as if taunting Mary's own sanity in this bedlam. Mary Eunice hesitated slightly before going over to her. Did she remember last night? Did she regret it? Mary certainly didn't. It allowed a warmth to flow through her soul and left a desire for more. Sister Mary Eunice sighed. With God on her side she could do anything.

/

Naturally, Lana had seen Sister Mary Eunice enter the room before Mary had even glanced in her direction. The nun released an attractive, positive aura wherever she went and Lana was instantly drawn in. Trapped- even more so than she was in Briarcliff. The reporter watched as Mary Eunice touched a patient or two in an almost _loving_ manner. Lana reluctantly felt herself becoming slightly attached to Mary Eunice, like a miracle drug to cure her loneliness. Which was stupid, Lana had been in this hell-hole long enough to know that other people were not medicine. Wendy had been her addiction once. Lana supposed that obsession had been cured, not by electro shock therapy, but by a gorgeous blonde in a holy habit, with a walk which could sway nations and eyes like an angel. Lana scoffed at herself; when did she get so sickeningly poetic?

Suddenly, she felt Mary Eunice's eyes on her, pulling her from her thoughts. For a fleeting moment, Lana wondered if she were going to walk away and pretend like she hadn't seen her. However, the nun did exactly the opposite. Walking in a way which must've felt dominant and powerful to her, but looked apprehensive and uncomfortable to Lana, Mary Eunice approached the reporter.

"Hello miss Winters," she said quietly. 'So much for authority', Lana thought.

"Hello sister,"

"Can I talk to you, please, in private,"

"Sure," said Lana, "but don't let anyone see- they'll thinking I'm spying for you or something as equally bizarre,"

/

Mary Eunice led Lana into an empty cell, just around the corner from the day room. The nun closed the door and sat on the bed, playing with the crucifix.

"What is it you wanted to speak to me about sister?" Lana asked.

"Our little... Discretion. It's a _sin_ Lana. It's forbidden in the eyes of God-"

"You never answered my question," Lana said looking at the sister as she sat down next to her on the bed.

"And what question was that, miss Winters?" Mary Eunice looked confused.

"Wether you liked it or not,"

Mary Eunice gasped quietly and her heart skipped a beat. She stumbled upon her words but eventually they broke free.

"Yes, of course. I thoroughly enjoyed it," she admitted and then hung her head in shame.

Lana softly placed her hand on Sister Mary Eunice's face and brought her chin up so their eyes were locked.

"Would you do it again?" Lana whispered.

"It's a sin, I am unsure-"

"-mary..."

"-yes I would do it again. In a heartbeat, undoubtedly,"

Lana captured Mary's lips in a passionate kiss. Their lips moved together in perfect synchronisation as Lana knocked off Mary's coif in order to run her fingers through the sunshine blonde strands. Oh and her hair was just _exquisite_, it was criminal to hide this hair away. Lana moaned into the kiss before Mary pulled away again.

"Are you okay?" Lana asked.

"Yes. I'm quite possibly in heaven," Mary Eunice smiled and let out a small, breathless laugh.

"I'm pretty sure it's hell in here,"

"Not when I'm with you," Mary said bashfully.

And it was in that moment that Lana discover- one may tolerate a world of demons for the sake of an angel.


	3. You don't know what love is

**Prompt: Lana exorcising Mary. **

**This was quite hard to write seeing as I can't imagine Lana being a believer in God. Which makes sense taking into account what she's been through- her life must have seemed pretty Godless. I also was uncertain wether to write it so that Mary lived or Mary died. You'll have to read it to find out though;) I tried my best and I hope you enjoy. Please continue to leave prompts and reviews. **

You don't know what love is

Lana had noticed the difference in her almost straight away. She had added an extra, teasing swing in her step and constantly plastered onto her usually angelic face, was the sly smirk of a sinner. It most definitely wasn't the sweet nun who had warmly welcomed her into a cold and unforgiving Briarcliff. Yes, Mary was most definitely quite contrary. In contrast to her innocent, childish self, that is. Lana's reporter instinct urged her to find out exactly what had awoken within sister Mary Eunice.

The day room was light. Not a pleasant light. It was the kind of brightness which was scolding to the eyes due to everything else being too dark and dreary for too long. Most of the patients avoided the Suns ray's scattered oddly across the floor; as if they would burn the skin with any contact. The inmates had spread into every dull crook and every shadowed cranny to keep out of the sunlight.

But of course, _she_ waltzes in, crucifix shining as it catches the sun. The polished wood could never shine as bright as her eyes though. They were truly a godsend- her eyes. Anyone could get lost in the bright blue Mediterranean Irises. They felt unfamiliar to Lana as she drowned in them though. Gold specks fluttered among the waves. The sky may have been clear, though her eyes were anything but. She didn't like it.

Sister Mary Eunice tried her best to circle the room, hitting _every single spot of sun_ possible. Her blonde hair glittered and her porcelain skin was white as snow. Mary Eunice didn't suit the sun, Lana mused, she suited the winter and the snow. Both were unappreciated but they each had an undeniable beauty.

Mary Eunice had caught sight of her. Lana held her breath as a sneaky smile crept into the nun's mouth.

"Hello, Sister," Lana said. Mary avoided any greeting. Very uncharacteristic of her.

"How's your treatment going?" She sat down next to her. "Do you still have those..." Mary Eunice ran a finger quickly up Lana's leg. "_Urges_?"

Lana swore this proximity was not appropriate. More importantly- this was _not_ Mary Eunice. Lana knew the woman to even flinch at any sort of intimate contact, let alone initiate it. Uncomfortable and slightly warm glancing at the sister's sinister smile, Lana stood up.

"The treatment's going great. I think I'm almost cured,"

"_Almost_," Mary Eunice actually _purred_. This was not happening. Maybe Lana was crazy after all.

"I'm on the road to a certain recovery," Lana nodded. Lies. If she was being cured- how could she explain her feelings towards the godly servant right now? Lana could think of nothing she would like to do more than wipe that stupid smirk off Mary's face with a kiss. _Ohhh _she could imagine Mary's soft lips entrapping her own in a delicate touch...

Sister Mary Eunice stood up too, she was naturally taller and her dainty heels gave her even more of an edge. "That's bullshit," she whispered. "I'll see you around miss winters," Mary Eunice called over her shoulder as her habit swayed around her ankles. Lana huffed, what was going on?

/

It was a couple of days later when Lana noticed the differences again. Subtle, certainly- they were only noticeable to people who would've known her well before- but there were more. They were in the bakery. In all honesty, Lana liked working there. It gave her something to do and allowed her mind a distraction. Lana was a woman who often thought. It used to be of Wendy and life. Then it was sister Jude and Briarcliff and fame. Now it was Sister Mary Eunice.

She looked across at the nun, who was placing the bread in the ovens. She may have consciously or accidentally wiped flour all over her habit apron. Lana smiled, she looked cute. As Lana watched her brush her bangs from her face, eyebrows furrowed in concentration, Mary's fingers had still captured some flour and had transferred said flour into her hair and on her face. White specks of the ingredient decorated her cheeks and nose like freckles, and lay in her hair and on her forehead like snowflakes. She was beautiful, Lana decided.

Momentarily, she had forgotten that Mary Eunice wasn't so innocent anymore.

The nun walked over to her.

"How's things going?" Mary asked as she placed a light hand on the small of Lana's back. The touch sent sparks of electricity around Lana's body. Her heart jumped like a rabbit.

"Very well. The yeast is well and ready to rise," Lana joked.

It got a laugh. Mary Eunice's tiny giggle sounded the the sighs of a thousand Angels. But it could've also been orchestrated in hell. Why was Lana so hooked to this woman? Sister Mary Eunice looked at Lana.

"What's wrong?"

"What the hell happened to you?" Lana asked straight. No time for bullshit.

Mary sneered jokingly, "hell is exactly what happened to me,"

Lana's confused gaze must've spoke for her voice.

"The nun was boring, I decided to lighten up her life a little. No harm in that, right?" Mary smiled. Oh god. Lana knew something was the matter- but this was only written about in stories. A demonic possession? Surely not. Lana smiled back.

"That's fair enough, I suppose,"

/

Lana lay in her rotting bed, yet again finding herself thinking about Mary Eunice. How was she going to cast out the devil from her favourite young nun?

That was such a stupid question.

She actually felt idiotic asking herself that. The devil was not inside Mary Eunice.

But then again... What else could explain her ungodly actions? Especially when she had been so committed to the Lord before.

This entire thing would be so much easier if she wasn't so hot.

But Mary Eunice was hot. So it wasn't easy. Most of all, Lana was disappointed in herself for forming such an attachment to the blonde that she was going to try and preform an exorcism.

What else did she have to loose?

/

Lana knocked on Mary Eunice's bedroom door- it was far away from the rest of the inmates. This part of the building was almost deserted. Lana liked it- the atmosphere was peaceful. The door creaked open to reveal Mary Eunice- without her habit on. She wore a simple white slip which dropped at high thigh and that was all. Lana gulped, she looked breathtaking. Innocent again.

At least, before her cat-like grin returned.

"Miss Winters, come in. Now, what can I do for you? I'm sure you're well aware of the rule requiring patients to not stray into this part of the manor,"

Lana nodded, "yes, but I had to see you,"

"What for?"

Lana froze. Ah. She probably should've thought of an excuse. Mary turned around when she didn't reply, her brow furrowed.

"I just wondered where you were," Lana said calmly, "you're normally the first to arise and wake us all up from a nightmare in order to work in hell,"

Mary Eunice let out a 'hmmm'. It was obvious the nun didn't believe her, and why should she?

"I deserve better lies than that Lana," Mary looked at her disapprovingly. "Anyhow, I'm sorry for the state of my undress. Well- I'm not, actually. Go ahead, enjoy the show," Mary Eunice started spinning, and she seemed to do it in slow motion. Her golden blonde hair splashing in waves around her. A beautiful laugh was emitted and voiced of the walls joyfully.

Lana was transfixed, it was her own problem really. She kept dancing with the devil and then asking why she was in hell.

"I have to do something," Lana announced. Mary stopped and swayed.

"What is it?"

Before she could change her mind, Lana walked over to Mary Eunice quickly and pulled her in for a rough kiss. Mary's eyes widened, but she smiled as she felt Lana's tongue ask for permission to enter. When Mary granted access, the nun placed her hands on Lana's hips and pulled her in closer. It was desperate but there was some feeling behind it- a feeling Lana didn't want to acknowledge.

Using all her will, Lana placed the metal crucifix she had hidden in the palm of her hand to the back of Mary's neck. Mary Eunice gasped,

"Your hands are very cold,"

"It's from lack of food probably," no idea how it could possibly be from that but it seemed that Mary didn't either.

"I'll get you as much food as I can if you promise not to stop," she said breathlessly, her hand daring to travel to Lana's collarbone to feel the sharpness.

Lana lifted up her neck and broke the kiss to allow Mary Eunice free access to her neck. Making a mental note to try and preform exorcisms more often, Lana muttered the words of Jesus Christ.

"What are you saying..?" Mary had stopped and looked up at Lana. But she was almost done...

"Lana, _answer me_," her voice sounded panicked.

"-In Jesus' name, I command thee to leave this body," Lana finished.

She was certain it had worked when Mary's body slumped against her, unconscious.

For a fleeting moment, Lana was afraid that she was going to die. She had to remind herself, She didn't care.

She was a con and an absolute liar. Lana was uncertain about wether she was describing Mary Eunice or herself.

Lana moved Mary so that she lay on her bed. She was humble in her beauty, yet consuming like a devouring star, and she was too pretty for her own good- which is why she destroyed everything she touched. Lana thought she knew what beautiful souls looked like, until she saw Mary's; broken and hurt, black with the dust of cruelty, yet still- brighter than the sun. Lana might've loved her, if it weren't such an impossible thought and it wasn't such an improbable thing.

"Lana?..." Mary groaned. She sounded weak and lonely. It was quite simply the most dreaded sound Lana had ever heard.

"You're not going to loose me, I promise I'm here,"

"It hurts,"

Lana felt her heart break. No not break. _Shatter_. Into a million pieces, unfixable. This blonde, innocent girl made her feel. Sister Mary Eunice was just a lost little girl who didn't really matter and never thought she would.

"Am I going to die?" Mary voice was just dripping with unashamed fear.

"No, don't worry," Lana replied. Even the thought send Lana's heart smashing to her stomach. She could picture it now: Mary Eunice slowly passing away, as the beautiful woman she once was became a phantom of a ghost, in a snow storm. Lana: pouring over the loss of her, discreetly in her room, like the nun was pale gold. Lana could imagine her futile attempt to grasp what little air there was when she cried the nun's name.

Lana looked at sister Mary Eunice.

"Don't leave me," Mary asked quietly, as if dreading the answer.

"Never, I promise. I'll never leave you," Lana replied. And she meant it. Lana outstretched her hand and held Mary Eunice's delicately. Mary smiled as she closed her eyes, wrapping her own fingers around Lana's.

She was going to be fine, Lana thought. She could've cried with happiness.

Momentarily, she forgot where she was, and what the manor contained.

It would've been a shame to dwell on murky thoughts, when there was such beauty there.


	4. A series of incidents

**Prompt from tumblr: Ok heres my prompt: Lana flirting with sister Mary every time she has the chance to, making her blush and giggle. I hope you like my idea :)**

**I hope you enjoy!:)**

The 3 times she didn't realise and the one time she did.

i)The doughnut incident.

The gloomy bakery in Briarcliff was the opposite of what a stereotypical bakery often looked like. Disregarding the normal kitchen aspects, Briarcliff bakery was meek, dull and despite the bread baking by the dozen, the loafs gave of no pleasant aroma- meaning the room still smelt like the deathly perfume Briarcliff owned. The depressing smell and atmosphere of Briarcliff meant Lana Winters liked to spend as much time as possible in the bakery, in a high hoped bid to distract her already partially insane mind. She practically begged sister Jude to give her at least 3 slots a week on the bakery rota. Sister Jude obliged, even if reluctantly. Lana thought she was just happy to get her out of her hair. Sister Jude seemed awful stressed lately.

So now here she was, kneading bread to her heart's content. Although it was the same routine- baking gave her the chance to not only escape the persistent _Dominique_, but also give her something other to do than just sit around and smoke, hoping she'd die quicker if her lungs gave out before her mental strength to endure this hell. Lana sighed as she smacked the dough onto the counter top again, added flour, and repeated the kneading process. Stretching, pushing, twisting. Stretching, pushing, twisting.

She had carried on like that when she heard the nun overlooking the inmates announce she was swapping shifts with another sister. Not like Lana cared. She hadn't even bothered to learn half their names as what she considered a personal rebellion against Briarcliff. Rolling her eyes, Lana carried on with yet another dough ball.

A few minutes later Lana heard a low whistle from spivey. Pepper, along with a few other patients, smiled at the new carer. Lana breathed deeply before looking at her new guardian. Lana smiled, a true, can't-help-but-smile, kind of smile. The one where, no matter how small the curl of ones lips, one has to turn away from everyone else. Lana may not have remembered the nun's names but her plan of revolt had failed in this aspect. She knew exactly who this new sister was.

Sister Mary Eunice.

Lana was screaming with joy on the inside. Not only was the blonde nun actually _nice_, she was also pretty great to look at. The pure, innocent look just seemed to suit Mary Eunice and somehow made her look _hot_. Lana herself was confused as to why that was. She certainly wasn't wearing anything revealing, in fact, the point of Mary's entire wardrobe was to remain as modest as socially possible. Perhaps it was the sunshine yellow bangs framing her face-the lightness of her hair a very welcomed accessory on the boring habit- or maybe it was just because during Lana's entire stay at the institution, Mary was the only member of staff to actually show that humanity lived behind the walls she was trapped in.

The reporter watched as Mary patted and smiling Pepper on the head. The pinhead gave the sister a hug so tight, Mary let out a small "_oomp_!" when Pepper's arms wrapped around her middle. Carefully Mary untangled Pepper's arms from her body and told her that she was doing well. Lana also witnessed her actually making sure the patients were alright. Even Spivey, who kept making sexual noises whenever the nun so much as breathed, got asked how he was getting on. Lana was transfixed with this woman, so lost in her daze that she hadn't noticed the person occupying her thoughts was stood right in front of her.

"Oh!" Lana jumped. "Hello sister,"

Sister Mary smiled warmly. That warmth seemed to travel into the brunette's soul. Lana had forgotten how much she'd missed the sun, no matter what form it came in.

"Hello miss Winters. How are you?"

"Fine I guess. Between me and the others, I reckon we've got around 50 loafs baked today,"

"Oh that's _wonderful_!" Sister Mary clapped her hands singularly. "Sister Jude will be pleased! Do you need any help with anything? I'm on duty so I've got as long as you'd like!"

Lana's eyebrows shot upwards, immediately taking the nun's last phrase inappropriately.

Lana smirked to herself. She would love as much time with sister Mary Eunice she could possibly have.

"I would love some help, thanks,"

2 more trays of unbaked dough later, Lana and Mary wiped their hands roughly, Lana on her apron she had been provided. However, Mary hadn't been given an apron so just wiped them on her habit. Lana laughed at the snowy hand prints scattered across the black cloth. Mary smiled at her.

"My clothes are cleaned daily, I don't have to worry. I have a spare habit in my room anyway,"

Lana was surprised. The nuns lived here too? "I didn't know that the sisters resigned here,"

Mary nodded, "yes, well. Only me and sister Jude really. Sometimes sister Florence,"

"Why do you stay trapped here when you're allowed outside?"

"Because I have no one on the outside anyway. Me staying here all day makes no difference to anyone who could possibly care about me," the nun was smiling but Lana swore she could detect hurt in her voice.

"I'll stay with you," Lana whispered. _Shit_.

"I'm sorry?"

"I-I mean," why was she getting all flustered? "I'll keep you company. Sometimes,"

Sister Mary nodded. "Thank you miss winters. Anyway keep watching the bread! I'm going to prepare some more dough,"

"I'd rather watch you," Lana laughed and then froze. _Shit. How did she manage to mess up twice?!_

However, Mary simply giggled and tried in vain to cover up the Rose blush tinted at her cheeks and threatening to show.

"You didn't think that was rude?"

"Rude? No!" Mary laughed again. "Why would you watching me knead bread be rude?"

She didn't know.

Of course she didn't, she was a nun. Lana punished herself internally for even saying anything.

"I don't know. Some people just take things to offence in here," Lana tried to cover up.

"Well I didn't so don't worry," Mary moved swiftly over to where they had both been working and roughy started hitting raw dough on the counter. If Lana could compare Mary Eunice to a baked good, Lana would compare her to be alike a doughnut. Fairly firm, although easy to squish and flatten out if enough pressure is applied. Glazed with a sickeningly sweet icing, which was just the right amount to leave you craving more. And that was exactly what Lana was aiming for. More.

Before turning her attention back on the oven inhabited bread, Lana's final discovered similarity was that both the nun and the doughnut were holy. _Holy_. Yes, Lana had just made a pun. Only to herself, but a pun nonetheless. It was at that point when Lana truly questioned her sanity.

/

ii)The fighting incident.

Lana was unsure as to why she was there. As soon as she had opened her weary, tired eyes, she knew something wasn't right. The gloomy, dark room, only enlightened by dim candlelight were unfitting to her preferred afterlife. After a few moments of contemplation, Lana realised the dreadful truth.

She wasn't actually dead.

Letting an an exasperated groan, Lana shut her eyes again, hoping to somehow find a host of traditional herald angels surrounding her and offering to help her upwards. Or downwards. According to sister Jude and the rest of the church, that was where she was headed.

She allowed one eye to apprehensively look around. Her reporters instinct had kicked in and her curiosity certainly always had the best of her. The first thing she spied was a simple, wooden cross. Hanging simply in the centre of the wall, it taunted Lana. She turned away from it. God wasn't with her. He never had been. In her poetic thoughts, Lana somehow managed to notice the familiar hospital curtains. Too familiar.

She was in the infirmary.

Lana sighed. She couldn't remember how she's got there, which was never a good sign. Whilst checking over her body for any possible clues of how she's landed in the hospital, Lana heard the quick scurrying of feet clad, most likely, in black patent heels. She stopped checking her skin and looked up patiently, almost hoping that this rushed visitor was for her. Whoever it was, they would be welcome to her. She was feeling a feeling so dreadful that she recognised it immediately as loneliness. She was far too familiar with loneliness, almost addicted. It was one hell of a drug.

The mystery person had stopped to talk to a nun on shift. Lana couldn't recognise the panicked voice, it was too hazy. Too far away. Or was it? Lana shook her head in a daze. She didn't know anymore.

Suddenly, sister Mary Eunice appeared in front of Lana. She had practically come from no-where. The blonde had been running. Lana could tell due to the beads of sweat on her forehead and her coif being slightly off centre, revealing slightly more heavenly hair. _Her hair is like gold_, Lana mused, _rare and priceless_. And Lana was astounded by how golden Mary's hair actually was. During her time at Briarcliff, Lana hadn't seen much of her hair, but boy was she craving it.

"Oh, Miss winters!" Mary breathed, relief slid off her tongue with her words. The girl was practically _panting_. "You're _okay_!"

Lana's heart seemed to soar. Although it didn't get very high before Lana herself clipped it's wings. The feeling Mary gave Lana when she was near was unholy. It certainly was not helping with her treatment. Quite the opposite. Lana had long since learned that other people were not medicine. Wendy had taught her that when she'd locked her up in Briarcliff. So why was it Lana's body reacted to Mary Eunice like an alcoholic would react to Vodka? Perhaps it was because Lana found drugs to be a quicker healer than time. Or maybe it was due to sister Mary Eunice looking both flustered and relieved at the same time after being concerned for _her_. She probably would never know.

"Yes, I'm fine. Although I can't remember what happened..."

"Oh! No of course not! You were knocked out cold! It's normal for you not to remember," Mary paused, thinking about how to sequence the events. "It all happened in the day room. Two of the patients got into a fight. You somehow got caught in the physical side of the fight, through no fault of your own!" Mary added quickly. "No, you were just in the wrong place at the wrong time. One of their elbows hit you square in the temple. You'll have a bump I expect. I think you cut yourself on the table on your way to the floor too, on your thigh, that's what the report papers said," Mary smiled.

"How come you were in such a rush to find me? Wouldn't you have liked it if I'd died before we'd got friendly?" Lana teased. Mary seemed oblivious though.

"It wasn't life or death. I just wanted to see if you were alright. I brought you here with the help of Mr Walker," Mary laughed quietly. "I think the cut's deep though. Would you like me to dress it?"

Lana lifted her thin gown up, searching for the cut. Ah. It was deep, certainly in need of medical attention.

"Yes please. How come the other nurses didn't do it?"

"They were just about too but then I came in, sorry,"

"I could've bled to death," Lana laughed.

Mary giggled as she got some bandages and rubbing alcohol.

"Now," Mary settled down on the bed next to Lana. "This may sting a little I expect,"

As Mary's warm hand touched her thigh, the cold pain from the alcohol was none existent. Lana gulped softly. It was alarming how desperately Lana was craving Mary's touch. The reporter watched as the nun dressed her wound, marvelling at her facial features like they belonged in an art gallery. And they did.

"You're so pretty, sister," Lana whispered.

"I'm sorry, did you say something?" Mary looked up. She had been to absorbed in treating Lana's cut.

"I-I just said that, you're really pretty," Lana said again, a bit louder this time.

"Oh," Mary brushed her fingers against her bangs. "Thank you,"

Lana smiled. "It's quite alright,"

If the blush scorching Mary's cheeks was anything to go by, Lana would've guessed she was back on the path to heaven. Even if Lana's heaven was in the form of a blue-eyed, blonde-haired nun with a kind warm that outshone the sun.

/

iii)The resurrection incident.

Lana's cell was lifeless; even when it included Lana herself. Just because she was moving didn't necessarily mean she was alive. She felt empty inside, hollow and without meaning. Part of her wishes her body would just let go and die. There was no point in burning a candle in the window in hopes of her returning when the woman who ignited it had ceased to exist a long time ago. Lana had a tendency to forget that the dead had often died long before they'd reach their casket.

Lana sat on the cold, hard floor, staring at the wall opposite. She heard a single scream, and like a bird call, other screams reciprocated and soon enough, an entire symphony of the sound of screams, moans and desperate pleas were sounding. Lana closed her eyes, sat up straight, and waited patiently for death, the music of Briarcliff still wrapped around her ears. She would wait for him. No matter how long he may take to come and collect her.

A few hours later, Lana woke to the sound of a light tap at her door. The orchestra had stopped and now an eerie silence had filed the halls of Briarcliff. All apart from the door-knocker.

"Miss Winters, may I come in?"

Sister Mary Eunice. Lana smiled widely.

"Yes,"

Mary walked in and closed the door swiftly behind her. "What are you doing on the floor?" She asked, confusion written prominently onto her face.

Lana shrugged, forcing her weary eyes to meet Mary's.

"It's somewhere other than the bed to sit," Lana smiled.

Amused, Mary shook her head. "Bed. Now,"

Rolling her eyes, Lana crossed the room and slipped into the rough, thin sheets. The bed seemed to claw at her and the blanket seemed to have teeth sharpening themselves against her bare skin. "Was that an invitation for just me or both of us?" She flirted.

Mary looked at her. Lana could've sworn to God she saw longing in her eyes. In fact, she would've, but God wasn't there. It was just herself and Mary Eunice.

Silently, Lana moved over and patted the space next to her. "I won't tell sister Jude if you don't. We could both use the company,"

Mary had never seen such an uncomfortable bed look more inviting. Slowly, she made her way over to the bed and apprehensively climbed on it next to Lana. The bed was tiny, Lana couldn't help but notice the amount of contact they had- their bodies pressed together in order to stay on the bed. Mary had obviously noticed it too, a deep blush which Lana had come to recognise rose in Mary's cheeks. Then they were silent.

"So how was your day?" Lana asked, almost timidly. She was feeling nervous and she didn't even know why. Of course she was attracted to Mary but...

Mary laughed not unkindly at Lana's question. "Is that what you call flirting?"

Lana laughed too, "yes,"

"You're pretty terrible at that,"

"You don't make it easy for me,"

"I'm not supposed to! I belong to the church, I can't just stray from God!" Mary laughed.

"You don't have to, just let me chat you up once in a while,"

Mary's giggles grew. Lana shook her head, this was the most fun she'd had since she'd arrived at Briarcliff. She had missed feeling emotions other than: loneliness, dread, and sometimes no emotions at all.

"I can't, it's not technically allowed,"

"A lot of things aren't allowed according to you,"

"Like what?" Mary asked.

Before Lana herself could change her mind, she quickly leant into sister Mary Eunice and captured her warm, wet lips with her own. She felt Mary freeze next to her. And suddenly, there it was again. The feeling of dread.

That feeling quickly vanished when she felt Mary's mouth move against her own, almost begging Lana to continue. Lana complied with her request and daringly darted out her tongue, asking to intertwine their tongues together. Lana risked placing a hand on Mary's waist and Mary Eunice reciprocated by cradling Lana's cheek. Lana smiled into the kiss. Such an affectionate and cute action.

Soon enough, one of them pulled away. They were both breathless. Mary touched her own forehead with Lana's and smiled. Lana laughed and eventually recruited Mary until they were both giggling.

"My flirting can't have been too bad then,"

Mary just laughed harder in response. Her laugh was like spring showers and daffodils. It brought life and God only knew how much Lana needed a reason to live.


	5. Guardian Angel

**Bananun prompt: Lana protects and saves sister Mary from an inmate**

Guardian angel

It wasn't unusual for anyone to desire something. This normality included the patients at Briarcliff. Most, in fact all, of the inmates their had a strong, often overwhelming need to be loved. Whether it be by family, friends or a partner. On a rare, mournful occasion, these needs became too much to live without and everyone in the sanitarium heard about how one patient or another was discovered, swinging from the ceiling; their eyes as cold as the hearts of the ones who had left them there.

The empty feeling of loneliness was certainly no stranger to Lana. On lonely nights, the reporter would remember the last bit of air she had tried to snatch as she cried Wendy's name, in a desperate pitiful cry. The feeling of being left and unloved tore through Lana and left her an empty, hollow shell. Lana had previously thought of herself as more than a regular person, which was ridiculous. She realised now she was nothing more than human.

The same couldn't be said for the majority of the inmates there, they were less than people- their sanity left them as soon as their hope did. Each one had had a day when they woke with an emptiness in their chests, realisation dawning in once they realised they had been abandoned. Lana looked around as she set out to do character studies of the poor souls in the day room. She knew once "Lana Winters: survivor" graced every headline in the country that the people would want a close, relatable connection to the other characters mentioned in her gripping tale.

And now she had that connection. A want for love and acceptance. Lana smiled. Oh yes, this would undoubtedly be a bestseller.

Lana was half way through evaluating Pepper, (baby murderess. Too happy for Lana's liking, why is she constantly enjoying a place like this? Pinhead. Rumours that she had been in a freakshow but that had yet to be confirmed.) when a captivating distraction, dressed from head to toe in black, sacred cloth graced the room with her presence. Wiith imprisoned sunshine blonde hair which framed her beautifully crafted face and complimented her pure blue eyes. The girl was complete, as ever, in her simple wooden crucifix; which, to Lana, only ever presented itself as a "warning. Do not touch" sign. No one questioned whether or not sister Mary Eunice was angelic, she was crafted by God himself, both body and soul.

Which meant Lana was in bad luck whenever she was trying to concentrate with this fallen angel constantly checking up on her.

Lana watched eagerly, as Mary Eunice spoke kindly to each individual patient. _God_, her voice was so calm and soothing. Lana could listen to her speak all day, there was just something about the way Mary hit each octave with a satisfying scratch. Lana squirmed, she should not be feeling anything other than platonic care. Mary was a nun. Mary was a nun. This mantra had soon become memorised and repeated daily, in order to stop Lana from her forbidden feelings towards the sister.

Mary looked over to the reporter's usual spot. She smiled warmly, a warmth which fought admirably, it's way through Briarcliff's stone cold demeanour and straight into lana's chest. Lana couldn't resist a smile back and before she knew it, sister Mary was sat down beside her.

"Hello miss winters, how are you feeling today?" Mary's deep blue eyes softening and she met Lana's brown irises.

"Fine. Well, same as I am everyday. Bored. Lonesome. But getting on with it. It's not a life but I'm not dead," Lana shrugged and then smiled jokingly and added "yet,"

Thankfully, Mary saw the joke and laughed lightly. "You don't look fine. You've gone a bit flush, are you sure you're feeling well? We can get you down to the infirmary if you're-"

"No! I'm perfectly fine!" Lana declared quickly. "Sorry, it's just... I'm fine. Truly." She certainly wasn't planning on telling the nun that it was her presence that had caused the redness of her cheeks. Not that the nun could know, but Lana's heart had decided to be irritant and sped up. Her heartbeats were fast, like a skipping rabbit. Lana smiled once more at Mary. "Don't worry about me,"

'I'll deal with it,' is what she really meant.

Mary nodded, "okay miss Winters. I'm always here if-"

"Hey, sister!" Spivey slowly walked over to where the two girls were sat. "I'd stay away from the dyke if I were you. You know what they're like, always trying it on with others of the same sex. Filthy." Spivey smirked at Lana, who looked very annoyed. "And unholy, may I add-"

"You may not," Lana said.

"-technically speaking sister," Spivey continued without missing a beat. "You shouldn't even be speaking to her. She's a _sinner_," Mary looked awkwardly at a defeated Lana. "God's word, not mine. Says so in the bible."

"Leave me alone, Spivey." Lana said.

"I'm not doing _anything_ to you lesbo. You're in the wrong here. Trying to turn our dear sister away from God. What the hell is wrong with you?!"

"I'm not doing anything wrong!"

"Your entire life is wrong! And trying to corrupt-" spivey grabbed onto sister Mary Eunice's arm. "The only hot woman in this place is totally selfish, and I won't allow it!"

Mary whimpered at Spivey's grasp. "Please, let me go Mr. Spivey, I'll be over to you-"

"Let her go, asshole." Lana said defensively. Her tone shocked all 3 of them, Lana herself included. Each individual word was spoken so aggressively and dangerously a few inmates had turned around to see what was going on.

"What are you going to do if I don't, dyke?" Spivey threatened.

"Then I'll tear you apart limb from limb," Lana hissed. Mary stared at her, eyes wide as Spivey's anger seemed to grow. He held onto Mary a little bit tighter.

"Mr Spivey, please. This really hurts and I can only help you if- LANA!" Mary had stopped her reasoning once Lana had punched Spivey, square in the nose. Everyone had stopped to stare now. Some patients laughed, most gasped in shock. Time seemed to freeze. Lana herself was alarmed by what she'd done. Why was she so desperate to protect Mary? Spivey had let go of her alright. The blood poured down from his nose faster than Jesse Owens and he had needed to use both of his hands to stop the flow- thus making him unable to hit her back. He just looked into Lana's eyes, his own eyes were similar to those of a Rabbit caught in headlights, as two security guards rushed in and dragged him to the hospital.

Before Lana had realised that Spivey had been moved from the day room, she felt two strong, rough hands grab her arms hurriedly before dragging her backwards on her heels!

"No stop!" Lana heard Mary's voice shout at the guards who were apparently taking Lana somewhere presumably dreadful. Hydrotherapy, solitary maybe... She wasn't sure, but she was glad she didn't have to find out.

Mary ran over to Lana. "Miss Winters, are you alright?" Scowling at the guards she addressed them in a surprising authoritative tone. "Let her go, she's fine in here."

"But she just attacked another inmate, it's protocol to send her to-"

"I said, she's fine here. Leave her with me." She insisted. "Please," Mary added. Lana smiled a little. Of course, she had to be nice. The guards nodded solemnly and Mary caught Lana's eyes as she left the room swiftly. Lana furrowed her brow and ran after her.

"Hey!"

Mary turned around. "Miss winters!" She walked over to Lana and arrived at such a close distance that Lana felt her lungs struggle with the sudden pressure she had put her organs under. "Sorry, it's just-"

"Thanks for not sending me to solitary," Lana whispered. A part of her was ashamed that she had to rely on someone else to get her out of trouble she had put herself into.

"Yes well, thank you for protecting me from Mr. Spivey," Mary smiled. "You really didn't have to do that, you know,"

"I know, I wanted to,"

Mary smiled. "Thank you, it won't go amiss," and with that, Mary planted a small, quick kiss onto Lana's cheek before she rapidly sped off down the hall, embarrassment written all over her body language. There's a vulnerability in the way she walks, almost like she's going to fall.

Lana felt her heart flutter. She had found a new thing to desire. And her desperation for a certain blonde haired nun was anything but holy- but where was God at Briarcliff? Lana smiled as she felt the spot on her cheek where Mary had kissed her. Perhaps she could find a twisted sort of happiness for herself after all.


	6. The Last True Mouthpiece

**Bananun prompt: Lana and Mary are cuddling in Mary's bed at night and Lana starts singing "take me to church" by hozier in Mary's ear.**

**I made this... Cute? I wrote it as Mary Eunice, in a state where she had literally only just been possessed. So she would still be very much herself, but with noticeable differences. I hope you enjoy. If anyone wants to listen to take me to church whilst reading this, I would recommend Alice Kristiansen's version (a cover on YouTube).**

The last true mouthpiece.

It had been a long, dragging day at Briarcliff. But when was it not? Anyone subjected to the horrors that Lana Winters had received would surely be on the brink of insanity by now. Not that the reporter was any different; she was fairly confident that she'd lost her mind when Wendy left her.

[[READ MORE]]

Lana lay in her bed, (well, it was more of a dingy cot. Cold, uncomfortable and hard as nails) and contemplated her life at that current moment. It wasn't a life. The way she was living, death would be a sweet release. In fact, Lana almost longed for death to snatch her away, she most certainly wouldn't beg nor plead, but go happily- content with escaping this living hell. She turned over in the thin sheets and frowned at herself. How has she got like this? The other month she was in a warm home, happy with her girlfriend...-

"Lana?!" A hiss came from the other side of the bars at Lana's cell. It wasn't aggressive by any means, but it was hushed and panicked.

"Who's there?" Lana said a bit louder.

"Shush! Please. It's me, sister Mary Eunice," keys turned slowly in the lock of her door. Lana's heartbeat quickened. Suddenly, Mary graced the dark room with her bright presence, her holy aura was beaconed, yet it wasn't as bright as her eyes. Pure and simple, yet full of the joys Lana held most dear. Lana let out a relieved breath that she didn't realise she'd been holding. Sister Mary Eunice quickly sped over to the bed.

"Are you okay?" She asked. Worry laced her words deeply and Lana tried her best to exterminate the butterflies intending to flutter around her stomach.

"Yeah, I guess-"

"Sorry stupid question. Anyway I was just wondering, would you like to come to my room and warm up? It's okay if you don't want to! It's just... It's so cold in here. You might get ill," her last sentence didn't sound too convincing to Lana, nor did it seem to flow right with Mary Eunice either. However, Lana smiled at the nun. She wasn't going to pass up an opportunity of escaping her own thoughts, certainly not when she could by laying with sister Mary Eunice... Lana shivered excitedly and laughed quietly.

"Yeah, sure,"

Mary smiled at her happily, like a child receiving a lollipop. "Okay! Come on then,"

"Won't you get reprimanded by sister Jude?" Lana asked, heart dropping and eyebrows furrowing. She hadn't thought of the consequences. Probably 40 lashes each. Mary Eunice would cry and Lana would grimace. And then, because sister Jude was set out to murder her, she would most likely get boiled for 20 minutes in hydrotherapy, before, lastly, she would be thrown in solitary for sinning and therefore be back to square one.

Mary shifted and squirmed awkwardly. "She doesn't have to know, right? We just have to be _really_ quiet!" Lana's jaw, quite literally, dropped. This was sister Mary Eunice. The most goody two shoes Lana had ever met. What had happened to the completely innocent nun Lana had met on her first visit to Briarcliff? She no longer completely trembled if sister Jude raised her little finger but Lana wasn't complaining. Her reporter's instinct had kicked in though. Lana smiled back at her:

"What she doesn't know can't hurt her," Lana nodded.

/

After 10 minutes of sneaking through the corridors, Lana and Mary arrived at the nun's assigned bedroom in the sanitarium. Lana's eyes widened in surprise. It was so, _warm_. Surprisingly homely, the room itself emitted a welcoming aura. A simple crucifix hung on the wall above the bed. The reporter stared at it, why was it content to stalk her wherever she went? She hated God, not that she believed in him anyway. What kind of benevolent being allowed her to struggle through Briarcliff? No, she wasn't God's most treasured follower. Lana looked over at sister Mary Eunice who hummed a simple tune as she set herself up for the night. Lana smirked to herself, she complimented Him on His servants though, a certain blonde in a coif and habit was evidently God's finest work.

"You're welcome to get in bed Lana," she smiled kindly.

"Where will you sleep?"

"Well, with you, if you don't mind," Mary laughed. "The bed's big enough for the both of us I'm sure,"

Confusion etched it's way over Lana's features. "Aren't you cautious? You know, with my condition..."

"No," Mary said simply. She smiled kindly at Lana. "Honestly Lana, just get it and make the most of the warmth,"

Lana wasn't sure as to when Mary Eunice had stopped called her "miss Winters" and resorted to just "Lana" but it was a welcome change. She climbed into Mary's bed, not wanting to look to eager, but unable to help a sigh of satisfaction escape her lips as her tired skin met the ocean of soft feathers. Mary laughed as she took off the crucifix hanging by her chest and placed it lovingly on her cabinet. She then unveiled her own sun. Long, blonde hair tumbled downwards past her shoulder blades and sat contently just above Mary's waist; taunting Lana tremendously. Lana gulped.

"What are you doing?" The reporter asked.

Mary turned around. "Getting ready for bed? Is something the matter?"

Lana shook her head quickly. No. Mary smiled again. _God_, those smiles were endless. One by one, Mary unbuttoned her a habit and let it drop to the floor in a black bundle around her ankles, revealing a pure white slip covering her. Lana gawped at her legs. Why would she hide most of her features away? They were _exquisite_.

Timidly, Mary got into the bed next to Lana and lay down beside her, childishly pulling the covers up to her neck. Mary's eyes gleamed and Lana could've sworn she was holding the stars hostage in them. Lana reciprocated by laying down beside her, both of them facing each other; with their eyes locked, staring at one another, mesmerised by the galaxies swirling behind them. Mary shivered.

"Are you still cold?" Lana asked. Mary nodded.

"A little bit. Do you mind if I get closer to you? It's okay if you don't want to, it's just with body heat and-"

"It's fine," Lana said shyly, where had this timidness come from? "You can get closer,"

Mary smiled brightly and scuffled closer to the reporter, their bodies pressed together in an attempt to get warm. Lana tried her best to regain a normality in her breathing. Mary looked at her. She was so _cute_, although very attractive. How could someone so pure send the most unclean thoughts into Lana's mind?

Without warning, Mary hooked her leg over Lana's hip and thigh, and forced her own head into the crook of Lana's neck. Mary nuzzled against Lana and let out a low breath. Lana froze, trying her best to ignore the feeling of Mary's legs wrapped around her own.

"Sorry," Mary mumbled sleepily. "It's comfier," Lana said nothing but wrapped her arm around Mary's chest. "Better?"

"Yes," Lana could practically hear the smile on Mary's voice. Lana felt content again, _happy_ almost.

"_My lover's got humour. She's the giggle at a funeral. Knows everybody's disapproval_," Lana sang softly, more to herself than to Mary. She felt the blonde look up at her, expectant of something. Maybe an answer as to why she was so suddenly singing. Perhaps she wanted to hear more, Lana went with the latter, looking down on the nun as she whispered the next lines.

"_I should've worshipped her sooner,_" and Lana should have. Oh, she should've started worshipping Mary Eunice a long time ago.

"_If the heavens ever did speak. She's the last true mouthpiece, every Sunday's getting more bleak, a fresh poison each week,_" Mary shifted guiltily, thinking the 'poison' was referring to Briarcliff and thus, her. She couldn't have been more wrong. The reported skipped a few lines in order to reassure Mary Eunice.

"_The only heaven I'll be sent to, is when I'm alone with you,_" Lana caught Mary's eye. The nun gasped lightly.

"Is it true?" Mary whispered. "Do you really feel that way about me?"

"Yes," Lana said, hardly anything more than a whisper.

"Then take me to church, Lana," Mary smiled at her own little pun as she leant in for a kiss. Lana willingly allowed her lips to be captivated by Mary's. She felt the nun's lips move against her own in passionate, yet simple movements. Once Lana eagerly reciprocated, Mary moaned quietly, and by _God_, the harmonious sound of the ringing church bells were no match for how beautiful that moan sounded to Lana. She'll most definitely be visiting the church more often.


	7. Hallelujah

**So this isn't a prompt. I was just listening to this song (hallelujah, you know the one) and thought it was PERFECT for bananun. (Like seriously, it was written for them). So I wrote this:) Please leave your reviews and prompts, please please please!**

**Also if you want to listen to 'Hallelujah' I would recommend Hannah Trigwell's version (a cover on YouTube). **

Hallelujah

_I've heard there was a secret chord_

_That David played, and it pleased the Lord_

_But you don't really care for music, do you?_

Lana remembered the first time she saw Sister Mary Eunice. The sun was shining down, not only on the earthly soil, but it also seemed to radiant off of her golden blonde bangs. The sunlight was captured and absorbed into her habit as the nun greeted Lana at hell's gates, as if the habit was envious of the star's light. It needn't be. Not even the sun could outshine the warmth Mary Eunice emitted.

At least, that was Lana's first impression of the nun.

And then she spoke.

And God, Lana had never heard such a beautiful sound.

The Angels were sighing and the harps were being played up above. A symphony of angelic octaves and harmonious choruses flowed seamlessly from the nun's tongue. And although she reprimanded pepper, Lana couldn't help but swoon at her heavenly voice.

Mary Eunice didn't seem to notice though. Neither Lana's softening eyes and silent sigh nor her own perfect words seemed to have much of an effect on Mary Eunice. She was too busy finding sister Jude to even notice.

_She obviously doesn't like music,_ Lana thought.

It goes like this

The fourth, the fifth

The minor fall, the major lift

_The baffled king composing Hallelujah_

The second time Lana saw the innocent nun, She was imprisoned in Briarcliff. The frightened, endless screams of the other inmates matching the infinite terror in Lana's chest. She was alone. Alone in this satanic prison, listening unwillingly to a chorus of sounds orchestrated in hell.

Then she heard it again. _Her_ voice. The one that had haunted her dreams the first time she had heard it. Lana pricked her ears. Singling out only those beautiful notes sister Mary Eunice was humming. It was a simple tune, nothing too catchy, but mesmerising nonetheless. As the young nun walked down the corridors and past Lana's cell, her hums got louder. Although they were of low notes and occasionally got caught in Mary's throat; to Lana, they sounded like twinkling bells and Briarcliff no longer seemed so hopeless. Lana was confused as to why she thought this- although it was most probably to do with a certain blonde wearing a crucifix. Lana allowed herself to focus on nothing but the fading sound of Mary Eunice's footsteps. The humming was louder than ever in Lana's mind though. In fact, she couldn't get it out of her mind.

_Your faith was strong but you needed proof_

_You saw her bathing on the roof_

_Her beauty in the moonlight overthrew you_

Lana lay in the bath, content with being in the hydrotherapy room this late at night, alone. She was going to get out of here. She didn't _belong_ there. She just had to prove to Threadson she was sane. Easier said than done, she supposed.

Especially when all her attention recently had been on Mary Eunice.

Lana was confused as to why. Well, she wasn't. She knew her awe with Mary had grown ever since the first day they had spoken. Her captivation with the Virgin in the holy habit was most definitely unholy. Although recently, Mary's demeanour had changed drastically. _She had become more sly_, Lana mused. It was written all over the nun's face when she wore a tight fitting, smug grin on her pale face. Porcelain complexion cracking into a sneering smile, complete with eyes brighter than a thousand stars yet somehow, still darker than the valley's of hell. It sent Lana's heart skipping, hopping like a rabbit. It did flips and twirls and sent Lana insane. Literally, not just Jude's perception of the word.

To put it briefly, Lana could not, and would not be cured.

The moon shone through the bathroom windows, casting an almost magical, mysterious aura around the room. Lana lay her head back and smiled. She felt peaceful, after a whirlwind of what felt like a lifetime, when in reality was merely 3 months.

Suddenly, Lana felt someone else's presence in the room. She gasped when her eyes sought out a tall woman, with blonde, gold dust hair trailing down the back of a black habit. The hair shone exquisitely in the moonlight and the reporter knew immediately to whom it belonged. Mary Eunice snapped the crucifix from her neck and thrust it down onto the floor next to her coif. It hit the cold tiles with a high pitched clatter. The wood had become hollow. Lana furrowed her brow at the violent action that Mary used against something so dear to her. The reporters confusion was lost however, when Mary dropped her black cloth Lana stared.

She was beautiful. Her simplicity was divine in the moonlight and as she moved towards her already drawn bath, her hips swayed and she walked with the grace of a feline. Hair swished tauntingly along the nun's waistline and as Mary stepped into the warm water, she let out a sound Lana was all to used to imagining. A slow, soft moan was released from Mary's mouth. Lana breathed deeply. Did this woman have no mercy?

_She tied you to a kitchen chair_

_She broke your throne, and she cut your hair_

_And from your lips she drew the Hallelujah_

Lana was being sent to Jude's office. Again. She had no idea what she had done wrong. Again. The reporter knew life at the institution could get repetitive but this was the worst kind of tedium. She could've sworn Jude had it in for her. God could vouch for her on this one.

But when the reporter apprehensively opened the wooden door she saw, not Jude, but Mary Eunice. The young nun smiled when she saw her confused face and motioned to the chair as an invite to sit. Her smile didn't sit right with Lana, it was evidently meant to come off as kind but showed strain instead.

"Why am I here sister?" Lana asked as she sat, uncomfortably on the chair.

Mary ignored her and instead pulled something metal, giving itself away by glinting in the sparse sunlight breaking through the window. Mary came around Lana- tracing a gentle hand high across the reporter's chest as she did so, making Lana breathe deeply- and placed a hand on her shoulder. Hard was her touch, unbefitting to the warmth she had tried to project through her smile. Out of the corner of her eye- Lana saw her raise a pair of scissors and cut through the air towards her head.

"Sister! I didn't do anything wrong, I swear!" Lana yelped, squeezing her eyes close. Running away would be futile.

Snip.

Snip.

Snip.

Gentle, small locks of hair floated to the floor like feathers and Lana felt immediately embarrassed. Mary sniggered as she felt Lana relax slightly.

"Haircut. Everyone gets one. Jesus, talk about paranoia," Mary Eunice slowly scraped her fingernails across the top of Lana's scalp, resulting in an unwanted purr from Lana. Mary smiled as she finished the job. Walking back to the desk to face Lana, the nun seemed to change her mind and walked towards Lana again. Lana felt her heart beat loudly against her chest as the nun got closer to her. Softly, in contrast to her previous touches, Mary pressed her lips to Lana's in a small, chaste kiss. Before she could pull away however, Lana reciprocated and moved her mouth against Mary's. When Lana finally let go, she sighed and smiled, the only sound was the both of them breathing heavily, panting almost. Mary laughed but there was a menacing gleam in her eyes and Lana could've sworn she saw auburn in her eyes- a golden colour and almost as rare as Mary's hair.

_Baby I have been here before_

_I know this room, I've walked this floor_

_I used to live alone before I knew you._

Lana didn't think her life could've gotten much worse. How wrong she was. Threadson had traumatised her. She would never be healed completely again.

The familiar sights and sounds of Briarcliff was almost _welcome_ to her. Almost. Not quite. She had missed one person in particular though, and guiltily to Lana it wasn't Wendy. Even though Lana knew she was dead and she should be in deep mourning- Lana could not bring herself to do it. For her, Wendy had died when the teacher had abandoned her in the asylum.

No, Lana was longing for Mary Eunice.

_I've seen your flag on the marble arch_

_Love is not a victory march_

_It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah_

Jude was gone. Grace had died. Sister Mary Eunice was now in charge. That was the information Kit had given her anyway- the grief stricken man had solemnly stuck to facts. Which was good. Lana liked that in a person.

Mary entered the day room suddenly. The inmates stood up still and straight, like soldiers waiting for battle commands. _Mary could do that if she wanted,_ Lana mused. _Conduct and command a war_. The nun walked confidently and carefully made it her duty to silently capture the attention of everyone in the room. Not like she had to try, Mary Eunice was naturally captivating to look at. The nun smirked. Deception, horror and manipulation were hidden behind her eyes and her smile never reached anywhere other than her mouth.

Lana realised Mary Eunice had long since disappeared whilst she was away.

She grieved quietly as the Angels played sad music and God himself felt the loss of having such a loveable person die.

Lana longed for Mary Eunice. Not only was it painful for the reporter, it was embarrassing. She needn't cry over anyone. Lana was cold and broken by the loss of Mary. She almost sobbed.

Mary's flag may have replaced Jude's and be flying high overhead, however Lana's empty chest told her that Mary Eunice had lost just as much as Lana had that day.

_There was a time when you let me know_

_What's really going on below_

_But now you never show it to me, do you?_

Walking solemnly up to Previously-Jude's-now-Mary Eunice's office, Lana waited a moment before allowing herself to knock on the door. Slowly entering, Lana coughed to signal her arrival to Mary.

"You can sit, Lana," Mary didn't even look up. Just stared at her cigarette smoke as she blew it out her her lipstick stained mouth.

"I just wanted to ask you something," Lana admitted.

"What?" Lana had Mary's attention now.

"You seem different. You've become sly; sinister almost. What happened to you?!"

"Why? Do you miss the simple, Pure nun you'd grown oh-so accustomed to?" Mary sneered.

"Yes," Lana whispered. There was no point in hiding it. It felt like Mary was invading every inch of her privacy, including her own thoughts. She had no secrets now.

"In what way do you miss her? Hmm Lana?" Mary looked genuinely interested now.

"I just... I don't know..." Lana looked disconcerted for a moment. "We used to be friends,"

"We can be friends Lana," Mary walked over to Lana. There they were again, those cat like movements. Sleek, smooth and surprisingly sensual. Lana narrowed her eyes.

"No we can't, you've changed," Lana jutted out her jaw as Mary circled her. The nun was openly looking her up and down. As if inspecting her. If her pale facial expressions were anything to go by, Lana would've said Mary was impressed.

"I've changed yes, for the better. The old me didn't have the guts to kiss you that time. The old me didn't have the power to make you moan and sigh so powerfully, as you think of me at night, one hand between your legs. The old me, wouldn't be able to make you see the stars when she touched you. Which do you prefer Lana?" Mary completed, looking at Lana expectantly as she stood still. Calculating.

Lana didn't reply.

And remember when I moved in you

The holy dove was moving too

_And every breath we drew was Hallelujah_

Lana couldn't remember who had pounced at the other first. They were in a stalemate, that's what she could recall. Then suddenly, lips were on lips and Mary's tongue was on her neck, sucking on that _extra_ sensitive spot above her throat. Lana moaned and Mary smiled as hands wandered and gasps were emitted. Lana felt Mary's fingers venture towards her heat and the reporter's hips bucked in anticipation. She needed Mary, no matter who she was. As long, cold fingers entered her Lana shivered, but moaned pleasantly. Lana gripped the nun's hips as she felt herself getting close. Mary kissed her passionately, quickly, muffling Lana's sounds as her climax tore through the reporter's body. And to Lana, the stars were exploding the universe was bursting, fires were dying, and _God_, the whole world was terrifying. She kissed Mary back anyhow, feeling unfamiliarly compassionate and an emotion close to love. But not quite.

_Maybe there's a God above_

_But all I've ever learned from love_

_Was how to shoot at someone who outdrew you_

Lana cried when she heard about Mary's fall. Not brief crying. An eternity of sorrow released from her eyes as she screamed and cried over the loss of Mary Eunice. Her throat soon became hoarse and her thoughts occupied nothing other than a smiling blonde nun; images of Mary's emotions played out like a movie in the reporter's mind, laughing, confusion, happiness, sorrow. With each new face brought a fresh tidal wave of grief and despair. With the nun's death brought Lana emptiness and a hollow feeling she was certain no one but Mary could fill. Sobs wracked her body as she remembered how terrible it was to love something death could snatch.

Lana could only turn to God to help her see the light.

Because so far she wasn't finding it.

Not without Mary Eunice.

_It's not a cry you can hear at night_

It's not somebody who has seen the light

It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah

Briarcliff was shut down. That was it. Lana's ultimate goal was achieved, yet she felt less that satisfied. Sad, in fact.

Saying goodbye to Briarcliff meant saying good bye to Mary and Lana wasn't prepared to do that. She probably never would be.

Feeling fresh tears well in her eyes, Lana wiped them away. She had never been one to cry, yet here she was. Sobbing like a broken wreck every night.

But then again, that was what she was. Broken.

She missed Mary constantly. So much so her heart aches and her chest was hollow and she felt that she could no longer love anything. She was partially right. The sadness had made her cold as ice. She looked for Mary wherever she could. In the soft, wispy clouds, or the patterns of cold ice.

Lana became angry, after a while. Mary had gone. She'd just left her, without word of warning or at least a pitying, sorrowful goodbye. That thought only had her screaming in pain again though. She was doing it to herself.

The music in her life had gone. The raw humming and pure voice of the nun had long since died. Lana mourned that more than anything else.

Now the silence was deafening.

And in the absence of Mary's light, Lana would drown to feel her warmth again.

_Hallelujah, Hallelujah_

_Hallelujah, Hallelujah _


	8. To Write Is To Remember

**Okay now that I know how amazing you describe the details in your fics I think this print is perfect for you. Bananun prompt: Lana has a small notebook where she writes how cute and how much she loves sister Mary and she keeps the notebook hiden under her mattress and one day sister Mary finds it and reads it. Btw Your last bananun fic was awesome**

**I literally love this prompt so much! Thank you- Mary Eunice is non-possessed in this fic due to the asker requesting it and popular demand from others;) p.s Lana's notes are in first person- I hope this doesn't make it awful haha. **

To Write Is To Remember

Naturally, the desire to write came towards Lana like a calling. It was her _destiny_ to become a writer. The way the brunette allowed words the flow beautifully and seamlessly from the ink of a cheap biro and onto thin, scratchy paper was simply artistic. Lana connected words like a poet and wrote stories that could appease Shakespeare himself.

Yet, she was only ever allowed to write cooking columns. They weren't exactly befitting to her exceptional talent. Or so Lana thought anyhow.

But now Lana was in Briarcliff, with no busy newsroom, no calling of the persistent telephone and no annoying co-workers, slyly trying to worm their way to the top, just as she was. Lana made a connection between her previous boss and sister Jude though- they both limited her writing.

Yet still, Lana persisted and she just needed something to write about.

/

The day room, as ever, lacked in both sunlight and life itself. The inmates looked like zombies and the staff themselves looked solemn. Lana decided to write about the aura of the room.

_-Briarcliff. Day 30. 1964. _

_The room is dry, like a lone, stretching desert. And alike a thirsty traveller I am parched for something to keep me alive. It is utterly lifeless in here. The day room is filled with slow moving, dying patients. I wonder how many of them actually belong here or how many, like me, should really be at home, happy. I look around at the staff. Wearing a white uniform and their faces are marble. Stone, cold and emotionless- like soldiers lined up. Briarcliff effects everybody; the sane or the mental. I wonder how long it will take for one of the staff to end up here- not in uniform- but in a restricted bed, tied down and declared mentally ill. It's bound to happen soon, I am sure of it. -_

Lana sighed as she drew in smoke from a newly lighted cigarette. Her breaths of nicotine sounded hurried, like she was rushing to get somewhere. _Well_, Lana mused, _the more, the faster I smoke, the quicker I die. And I just can't wait to knock on death's door. It can't be worse than here._

The doors opened slowly, signalising the arrival of someone with authority, a holy figure most likely, they were scattered everywhere here.

Lana turned to see sister Mary Eunice wisp into the room and smile politely at security guards before addressing Pepper, and then proceeding to sit down and play checkers with the pinhead. Lana felt a pang of jealously but quickly abolished it. Why she was getting jealous over the nun playing a board game with Pepper she had no idea.

Lana looked down at the discreet paper, hidden on her lap. Smiling widely to herself, Lana thought of the most inspiring idea she'd ever had. She would write about a person.

She would write about sister Mary Eunice.

_-Briarcliff. Day 30, continued. 1964._

_Like a welcome breeze on a hot summer's day, the way in which she entered the room was both refreshing and most wanted. She swayed into the dull, dreary day room with a simple, childish ease- yet, I could easily sense her apprehension. She was not a whirlwind like Sister Jude, but a mouse. Timid and shy, nibbling at where she was most comfortable. Although she was evidently very much an introvert, the nun fascinated me. I was in awe at how she tiptoed carefully around patients, showing vast kindness and care. I just have to explore her more. She may be my much needed spring after a harsh winter. _

/

The bakery was quiet, unusually so. The sound of Lana's dough slamming against the flour covered counter seemed to echo around the room. Lana looked sulky, she was bored. She needed someone to entertain her.

And if by some miracle, a name-less nun announced her bakery duty would be replaced by another. By sister Mary Eunice. Lana allowed herself to be filled with some excitement. It had been a couple of days since Lana had been in a room for such a long period of time with the young nun. Not only had her writing grown repetitive but Lana herself was missing the sister.

And here she was. Lana smiled, her writing would bloom again once more.

Mary Eunice walked over to the reporter who who pushed down on a soft ball of unbaked bread.

"Miss Winters? Are you alright?" Mary asked Lana, just out of curiosity.

Lana nodded and smiled, receiving a smile back from Mary before she walked away.

_-Briarcliff. Day 36. 1964. _

_My bakery duty was in black and white until she took a shift and brought colour with her. I remember watching her as she put on an apron, her crucifix covered briefly before she pulled it gently out again. It glistened in the harsh lights, judging me for thinking poetic thoughts about her. The cross hanging near her breast did not stop staring at me; I could feel it's eyes on me when she walked over to me. My heart raced, it pumped hot, flush blood around my body. And although my insides were beating and pulsing with erratic beats I stood -still as a statue- as she finally arrived in front of me. _

_And by God, she was beautiful. Never had I seen something so obviously hand crafted by God himself. Her skin was pure, unweathered by the sun. It reminds me of snow, her skin: soft, inviting, gentle and magical. _

_And then she spoke and I fell a little bit more. Her voice was composed by the Angels, it hit every note with a slight scratch and it was music to my ears. No holy orchestra could match the sound of her voice to me. _

_But as quickly as she arrived, she left me. She had walked across the room to start on her own chores and I could never have seen someone so mesmerising until now. It wasn't possible until her. _

/

Lana sat alone in her cell. She was growing tiresome and the days were slowing merging into one, long eternity of suffering. Her notes regarding Mary Eunice had slowly increased, one by one, and were now quite an impressive collection. Lana stuffed them all under her mattress, hidden from everyone. No-one could know she was writing. At least- that's what she told herself. Lana refused to acknowledge that it could be anything to do with the blonde nun who featured heavily in her notes. That wasn't the reason. Not at all. Lana sighed.

She was embarrassed by her love for Mary Eunice.

In an attempt to distract her thoughts- Lana decided to write once more.

_-Hell. Can you count the days on eternity? 1964+. _

_Like the persistent Dominique constantly played in the day room, my life is on a tormenting loop. I am currently alone, as ever, in my cell. I can do nothing but think. However my thoughts are always occupied by a nun with sunshine blonde hair and a body that could shake nations. I am impeccably in love with her. I worship her, yet she herself prays to another. Someone who may not even exist. It fills my heart with an emptiness no words can describe unless one has experienced it themselves. It is killing me, my love for her, faster than any of the other horrors here.-_

Lana sniffed and quickly shoved the filthy piece under her mattress with the rest of the abundance of notes. She quickly left in search of something to cure her whirring mind.

/

Mary sighed as she opened the door to yet another hollow cell. She immediately recoiled at the sight of the coldness present around the room. She pitied these patients heavily. Her own room was warm and homely. These cells were their graves.

Pushing her feeling of compassion aside, Mary got on with her task set by sister Jude- to strip the beds. Simple enough. Glancing at her clipboard in hand, Mary muttered to herself as she trailed a finger down the list of names. According to the list, this cell was recorded as K618.

Otherwise known as the cell belonging to Lana Winters.

Mary gulped before she started her attack on the bed. Although the stink of Briarcliff was acidic to her nose- Mary could smell nothing but the heavenly aroma of Lana. She allowed herself to drown in a sea smelling of wild flowers and the faintness of cigarette smoke.

Snapping out of her daze, Mary uncovered the pillows, and then the duvet, and then the thing sheets-revealing hundred of tiny notes, painted with words so desperate they could've come from no one other than the reporter who inhabited this room.

The nun sat up straight on Lana's bed- ignoring the creak that followed after she pressed down. She picked up a note.

_-Briarcliff. Day 49. 1964. _

_Her eyes have grown more accustomed to me watching her, I'm certain of it. The way she looks at me; sometimes I feel complete. Her eyes are simply exquisite. A sea of blue and greens, the waves of her irises suppressing affection- but her eyes weren't a storm- oh no. They were so much more than that. When she looked at me, I swore I could see admiration and kindness. Her eyes bore into me, not harshly, but I welcomed them in. Her eyes were calm and like her, they brought me peace. They say eyes are the window to the soul and if that's true then her soul is beautiful. Not that I had any doubts anyway.-_

Mary Eunice furrowed her brow. _Who were those letters of love about? They were poetic- worthy only of someone of incredible beauty. _Thinking that thought, Mary stopped herself from allowing her mind to even consider that they were about her. She picked up another note.

_-Briarcliff. Day 62. 1964. _

_I have had to most amazing light shine upon me. If God can truly send miracles then she was one. I have seen the hair of angel and I am craving for so much more. It was an accident- sure- but never before has an accident looked so pure. Her hair is gold; rare and untouched by so many- yet desired by everyone. It cascades in waves down her habit- the blackness of the cloth in contrast the light of her hair. And that is what her hair is- light. The shine of her gold curls can put the sun to shame and stars have nothing on the beauty that she possesses when she brings it around her shoulder. I am utterly, and completely in love with her. And by God, she is my day, night and everything in between.-_

Mary felt her heart race increase ten-fold. Her hair, her eyes. These had a possibility of all being about her. She read one more, hopes soaring.

-Briarcliff. Day 70. 1964.

I have been blessed by the touch of a girl whom I believe is an angel. She provided me with such a fleeting touch it would compare shooting stars to be alike snails, yet her touch has stayed with me since. Her hands were cold, well crafted and smooth- yet her fingers brushed my skin and left burn marks upon me. A spark of electricity danced through my veins and she, complete in her holy habit and coif hiding away luxurious hair, I need her, that I am sure of- but alas I cannot have her. The thought of her sends not only a smile to my face but life to my soul. Words cannot explain how captivating she is. I'm in love with her.-

Mary remembered that day. She couldn't put it in such poetic words but she felt the same as Lana. Mary grew frantic- Lana would be back soon. Quickly, the nun scrambled the sheets and made her way over to the door.

"Sister Mary Eunice?" Lana enquired. Her heart rate picked up as soon as she lay eyes on the nun.

"Yes?"

"What are you doing?" Lana gulped.

"Stripping the bed," Mary replied quietly.

"Did you-"

"Yes Miss Winters, I saw them. I won't tell sister Jude don't worry," the nun said with a quick smile.

"Did you read them?" Lana whispered.

"Yes," Mary averted her gaze. "I'm sorry, they were yours. I had no right-"

"It's okay," Lana said. She was defeated. There was no going back now. "They're about you, you know,"

Mary looked at Lana once more. "I know. They're beautifully written. I've never read anything so poetic,"

Lana shrugged "they're just words,"

Mary smiled, "they're amazing," she kissed Lana's cheek quickly. It was amazing how a small peck could turn Lana's stomach into knots. Mary kept within close distance.

"I'm in love with you, you know that right?" Lana admitted. Her heart dropped as she expected to face reality and be completely rejected.

Instead the nun smiled and awkwardly pressed her lips to Lana's. Their mouths moved together and Lana smiled into the kiss.

"I love you too," Mary whispered. Lana had never felt more inspired to write than that moment.

/

_-Heaven. I've lost track of time. 1964. _

_She kissed me with such a force I was compelled to do nothing other than smile. The kiss itself wasn't powerful, oh no. It was chaste. It was the lone feather swirling towards the floor, it was the juice of strawberry leaking into the mouth and hitting the tastebuds with such a sweetness that one would crave more. The force of the kiss was in the emotions behind it: passion, love and happiness. I dream of her touch and oh God, I could fill a book with the dreams I have about her. She wears a heart that could melt my own, and she has. I love her. She is my prayer, with pretty eyes and a heartbeat. And death is the only thing that can ever keep me from her.-_

Lana Winters. 1964.


	9. Sweets Lead to Sin

**Bananun prompt: Lana bakes a heart shaped cake for Mary in the asylums bakery for valentines day and writes on the top of the cake with frosting "will you be my valentine?"**

_Okay, so, the reason I kept this in my drafts for a while is because I thought it would be cuter to actually upload it on Valentine's Day- so I'm sorry, prompter, if you sent this around about a month and a bit ago- but I hope this is okay!_

Sweets lead to sin.

Lana worked in the bakery silently that day, alerting no one that she was there and giving sister Jude, not only the impression that she was finally caving in to her demands, but also under the false pretence that she was there to benefit a charitable cause by baking nothing other than bread.

She hummed a soft tune as she poured flour into a bowl. She sung, not Dominique, but a song she remembered from her life before, when she actually could live. A happy, catchy tune. A smile slowly made its way onto Lana's face, before it turned sad and remorseful. She missed her old life. She missed Wendy, she missed her job. Lana longed for the feel of a fresh breeze against her skin and the refreshment off spring rain hitting hard against the worn pavement.

Lana felt like crying as her memories came flooding back.

She refrained from spilling tears though. Crying couldn't free her from Briarcliff.

And anyway, she had to focus on her task at hand.

Shaking her head, the reporter beat eggs, baking powder, sugar and milk into the flour to create a potion of sponge cake mixture. Pouring it into the set and placing it into the oven, Lana smiled happily to herself. She had never done anything like this before, and probably never would again. She just needed to make an impression.

It was, after all, Valentine's Day.

And with her previous and most obvious Valentine having left her for dead in the sanitarium, Lana had long since found a new person for her desires; sister Mary Eunice. The thought of the young nun sent Lana's pulse at an erratic, almost harmful pace. Her heart warmed and her soul sighed whenever Mary was around.

So, Lana had made the, possibly terrible, decision to ask Mary to be her Valentine.

She hoped the nun even knew what a valentine was.

Lana smelt a heavenly scent arise from the even and breathed it all in happily. She ran over to the oven and checked it was done. A sponge glowed, fluffy and golden in the middle of the worn, dark oven. Lana smiled as she reached out and placed it on the table, helping it escape its confinement in the set. The reporter grinned as she lay the cake on the cooling rack. It was perfect.

Now, for the icing.

As the reporter mixed a concoction of sugars, her thoughts drifted to the scenario of Mary Eunice's reaction. Would she be surprised? Stupid question, Lana thought, of course she would- but would she be pleased? Disgusted? Or even worse, emotionless? No presence of any feeling on her face as Lana gave her the cake would tear the reporter into a million pieces. The thought of it almost made Lana stop entirely. Almost.

The batch of frosting was light and pale pink, a colour never seen in the asylum but Lana considered it to be a welcome change. She took the spatular and gently lay the frosting on the sponge, smoothing and whipping until the reporter was content with it's guise.

Finally, Lana carefully piped Virgin white icing onto the cake- spelling out in swirled, steady letters- "will you be my valentine?"

The reporter grinned at her handiwork. The cake looked inviting and sweet. She just hoped Mary Eunice would like it as much as she did.

/

Mary had just finished securing her coif around her hair when she heard a faint knock on her bedroom door. The nun's brow furrowed. Patients weren't normally allowed in this part of the manor. Hastily walking over to her door she opened it, almost hesitantly, revealing, not a person, but a small, pink frosted cake sitting on the floor. Glimmering with sweetness, it made the nun gasp. It was such an abnormality in the bitter asylum it made Mary smile. Looking closer as she picked it up, the nun noticed it said: "will you be my valentine?" Mary almost dropped the cake in shock, a deep blush arising from her cheeks and a gasp escaping her mouth. Who was this gift from? Mary Eunice racked her brains as to who could've left her such a present. Dr Arden? No, this was too cheesy for his liking, and anyway, Arthur wouldn't ask her to be his Valentine anyway. The thought of it made Mary cringe and shiver. The nun saw him as only a friend.

Could the Monsignor have left it for her? Mary shook her head quickly- that was a firm no for so many reasons. And anyway, if he were to ask her, which of course, he wouldn't, the priest would in no way ask her by icing a cake. Sweets did lead to sin after all.

Try as she might, Mary could not figure out who could have left her the small cake with the big question. The only clue she had to go on was the bakery duty rota and the handwriting in which the message was written. The nun decided to make it her new mission to solve this mystery and reply to the question in person.

The first place to start was the bakery rota. Almost flying out of her room, across the hall and down the stairs, Mary ran into the day room. Greeting everyone who looked at her with a kind smile, the nun practically skipped to where the baking time table was pinned upon the wall. There were only 3 names today, but long shifts. Mary felt sorry for them, being stuck down there on their own all day, doing nothing but labour.

Shaking the thought from her mind, Mary traced her finger along the three names.

**_Pepper. Lana Winters. Grace Bertrand._**

The nun smiled to herself. This certainly narrowed it down, more specifically to one person in particular. Pepper couldn't speak English, let alone write it and Grace, well Grace was far too busy with Kit Walker to even consider another Valentine; which left only Ms Winters. The nun's soul soared higher than the heavens when she even entertained the idea of the reporter having a crush on her.

Mary glanced over to the reporter, who was sat alone, as she always was, smoking on the couch. There was something oddly compelling about someone so fluent in vocabulary. Timidly, the nun walked over to Lana.

"Hi," Mary whispered.

Lana looked up from whatever she was staring at in the corner. Nothing probably. "Hello," Lana smiled back, she tried to tame her racing heart.

"Yes," Mary said confidently, a smile upon her porcelain face.

"Yes?" Lana's brow furrowed at such a blunt, ambiguous word.

Mary froze, her blood had gone from warm summer's day to ice cold winter's night. She hadn't considered what would happen if it wasn't actually Lana who had sent her the cake. Mary's eyes diverted to the table. Lana had been writing something or other, probably about how much she hated Briarcliff. Mary squinted, that writing... It looked so familiar... Mary smiled wider. It was Lana! The same writing was on the cake! Mary's heart skipped and did flips as her soul black and white soul burst into technicolor.

"Yes, Lana, I'll be your valentine," the nun smiled as she bent down and gave the reporter a chaste kiss on the cheek.

Lana smiled. Mary Eunice was a heaven-send.

"How did you know it was me?" Lana whispered, grinning mischievously.

The nun giggled. "Your penmanship is quite unique- especially since you're one of the few who can actually write," Mary said with a smile. "Will you be my valentine too?" The nun asked, hope glimmering in her eyes.

"Yes, of course," Lana nodded. The reporter reached out her hand and grasped Mary's own firmly- intertwining their fingers: white, pure porcelain contrasting with fairly tanned, grubby skin. The pair smiled at each other, as Lana gave Mary's hand a squeeze and Mary held on tighter. Nothing, not even sister Jude, could convince Mary to ever let go.


	10. Did She Ever Say a Prayer For You?

**Lana is kind of jealous of doctor Arden because she knows he likes sister Mary as well and Mary finds out**

**_AND_**

**Bananun prompt: Lana is kind of jealous of doctor Arden because she knows he likes sister Mary as well and Mary finds out**

Did she ever say a prayer for you?

Lana had noticed it one rainy Wednesday morning. The clouds released tears Lana was too proud to shed and the sun hid itself behind them, too afraid to show it's light. Lana could've used the sun's rays though, the clouds were too dreary and menacing.

However, the dim light of dawn still kindly showed the reporter (who was looking through her window) two figures walking back from the woods. One was dressed in black, a habit, that, although was a uniform, identical to everyone of those who wore it, Lana recognised immediately to belong to Sister Mary Eunice. The reporter couldn't help but smile. She bit her lip to stop herself though.

_She had to be cured. She wasn't allowed to feel this way. Mary was a nun. _

This mantra was repeated daily. On numerous occasions.

Forcing her thoughts to tear away from those on Mary Eunice, Lana tried to focus on who she was walking, nodding, talking with and even- was that a smile? Lana frowned. It was a genuine stretch of the mouth in a way only Mary could make look like sunlight. Lana would do anything to make Mary smile like that. The sister's smile was like the stars, beautiful, wanted in a sheet of black sky, and rendered people speechless.

But who was stealing Lana's stars away?

Lana narrowed her eyes and peered closer at the couple. He was tall, bald, with a hooked nose and a small beard. Lana stepped back from the window. Dr Arden? Lana was confused. Since when were those two so close? The reporter could've sworn she had never seen the two together. Although, the only time Lana had really seen Arden was when he prescribed and went through with her electroshock therapy. Naturally, Lana immediately hated him.

However seeing him with Mary made her loathe him completely.

/

The weeks passed by and each day went past in a blur of tedium. Lana in the day room, smoking her life away; followed by an intensive round of torture before trying to sleep through screaming lullabies. Each morning, she forced herself to get up extra early, just so she could watch Mary and Arden's morning walks.

_He's so creepy,_ Lana thought, _how can she be around him and her skin not chill or her heart not freeze from the sheer ice of his demeanour?_

Yet, everyday, Lana watched as Mary talking, probably unwilling flirting back, with Arden. It was more torturous than anything else here. Watching Mary look adoringly at anyone other than her. Not that the nun looked at her anyway. But the thought of Mary Eunice made Lana's heart race and the reporter could possibly build a rapport on that.

If the person Lana desired wasn't too busy with an old, shitty surgeon.

/

The reporter walked into the bakery the next morning with a face like thunder. The spying of the nun and the scientist had been especially torturous today, the reporter could've sworn she had seen a candy apple hidden in the woven basket. It made Lana's blood boil and naturally put her in a bad mood for the rest of the day.

So here she was- stony faced and miserable- slamming bread on the counter aggressively wishing it was nothing other than Dr Arden's face. She let out a short, deep breath- her feelings were so whirred and confused, yet it didn't take a genius to realise that Lana was utterly jealous. The reporter sighed, this was just what she needed. Brilliant.

The soft humming of a sweet, religious melody put Lana's thoughts on pause. Her brown eyes watched as Mary Eunice entered the bakery, put on a clean apron, and set to work on a new batch of dough, walking over to Lana as she did so.

"Hello Miss Winters!" The nun said with a beaming smile. "How are you getting on?"

"Fine," Lana said coldly, staring at Mary for a brief moment before looking down at her bread again.

Mary's brow furrowed. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Lana shrugged. "How's Arden?" She asked innocently, pretending it was an everyday question.

"Arden? Oh, he's fine I suppose." Mary smiled. "Why'd you ask?"

The reporter slammed her dough down again. "Just... You know, you're spending a lot of time with him recently. Someone might think you're..." Lana looked for the right word. "An item?"

Mary blushed and shook her head furiously. "No no no!" The nun insisted, eyes wide. "We're just friends, honestly! You've got to believe me Lana," the nun placed a frightened hand on the reporters and the pair immediately froze. Lana's heart sped up, not only because Mary admitted she had no feelings for the doctor, but because the nun's touch left burn marks on her hand and her fragile skin too hot for Lana's liking.

"I believe you," Lana nodded as she offered a weak, but confident smile.

Mary smiled back. "Oh, good. And anyway-" the nun breathed a sigh of relief, before her smile turned slightly mischievous. It was unusual and almost funny for Lana to see. "-you should be careful miss Winters. Your tone of voice almost sounded jealous," the nun winked light heartedly as she spun on the spot and was gone in an instant, leaving Lana speechless.

_She's a whirlwind, that's for sure,_ Lana thought to herself. _And I'm completely blown away. _

And as the reporter looked at the nun, Lana realised she had no real reason to be jealous, it's not like the nun would be opening her legs for just anyone. The person to do so would have to be a God send, in order to unlock Mary's stained glass heart

And Lana was going to make sure it was her.


	11. Amongst The Madness

**Hello! Is there any chance you could write a bananun piece in which Mary Eunice is also an inmate at Briarcliff? Thank you!**

**I really loved this prompt but I feel like I haven't done it justice bc I can't write AU to save my life- I hope this is okay anyway tho. And I'm sorry if it's a bit shorter than the others but I've been super busy!**

**P.s. I did some research on what people where committed to sanitariums for (because I feel like making Mary a murderer or a homosexual just would be too obvious) so... If she were in the 60's she would be diagnosed with severe grief and delusional- seeing images etc. So I hope that's not too confusing! **

Amongst the Madness.

Lana Winters was a woman who disliked tedium, and Briarcliff was the exact definition of the word. Everything about the manor was tedious. Boring. Insipid.

Lifeless.

And so, naturally, Lana grew to not only loathe Briarcliff, but also repel the place- denying that in fact, she was truly there. What little she did in the sanitarium became nothing more than a dream to her- a wisp of smoke drifting into nothing as each day passed with the exact same events as the days before.

/

The high pitched sound of sister Jude's whistle signalised her unwanted arrival to the common room. Lana, familiar with a cigarette in hand, grudgingly turned her attention to the nun. Her face was worn with wisdom, both good and bad from her own experiences. Stone cold demeanour present in every inch of her being- piercing grey eyes were ruthless and icy, but giveaway blonde hair escaping her coif showed a rare sign of humanity. Lana sighed as the nun opened her mouth in order to speak.

"Right, listen up!" Curvaceous, regional accent wrapped around her words and went straight through Lana's skull; yet she uncharacteristically obeyed. She did actually listen. "There's a new inmate here today, and I want you all to make her feel welcome..." The nun looked around and seemed to sigh in defeat before she had even begun. "- oh never mind. Anyway- Mary Eunice!?" Jude shouted over her shoulder as she shouted for the new arrival.

Lana rolled her eyes and started to turn her back on Jude- but not before the apple of her eye caught sight of long blonde hair. The reporter turned quickly and set her eyes comfortably on a tall, slender woman- wearing the standard patient uniform although seemingly personalised with a shorter hem, which kindly showed Lana more of her long, toned legs, and a simple, black cardigan. On her chest lay a small, silver cross, completing her outfit with a stamp of Christianity. Lana's smiled faded slightly, but not before she had reached the woman's face; smooth and pale in complexion, with her cheeks stained red from embarrassment. Her smile, although inviting, was clearly false and forced, as the kindness didn't reach her eyes. Although the Stars had reached Mary's blue irises- they swirled and captivated the reporter as they shone.

_'She's pretty,'_ Lana thought to herself as she glazed her eyes over the new inmate once more. _'That's for sure.'_ The reporter smirked to herself as she dropped her gaze and the cigarette ash with Lana has forgotten to flick off dropped on the wooden floor.

"Shit," Lana mumbled as she attempted to sweep the traces under the sofa with her foot. She was so involved with the activity, she didn't notice when Mary sat down next to her: back straight, hair flat against her back in a waterfall of gold and amusement in her eyes. As Lana looked up, she saw the girl slightly giggling- teeth shown in a flash of pure white. Lana both swooned and groaned internally. Although she was happy for the company, she would happily ditch her attraction to the new blonde. It would only end in loneliness.

"Hi, you're the new girl right. Mary Eunice, was it?" Lana asked politely, a ghost of a smile etched upon her lips. Of course her name was Mary, Lana couldn't forget her name when she had a face like that.

Mary nodded. "Yes, Mary Eunice- but everyone just calls me Mary. And yours is?"

"Lana Winters. So what's earned you a place in hell Mary?" The reporter asked with a grim smile. The blonde looked both shocked and hurt and Lana immediately hated herself and her natural instinctive nosiness. The cross decorating Mary's chest shone to the brunette. "Hell" probably wasn't the best word to use. The reporter's heart dropped, did this woman think she meant literally? If so, Lana had probably ruined all of her chances with this apparent God-groupie.

"I just meant- here. What did you do to get yourself admitted here. In Briarcliff. Sorry," Lana said quickly.

This seemed to relax Mary as her shoulders dropped and a small smile appeared. "Oh, I thought you meant..." The blonde trailed off. "I just miss my brother. He died, in the jungle, in Vietnam. My mother cried and my dad drank when he arrived home in a box. He wasn't much, just an average boy, but he was funny and smiled whenever he saw me so we got along just fine," Mary's eyes glazed over and she seemed occupied with the corner of the table. "I just want him to come home. The yellow letter, it lied. He's alive- I see him. He's in the ice when I walk over cracked puddles and he whispers to me through the wind, weaving through the trees. I want him to stop playing games and come home." Mary shook her head and snapped out of her trance as she looked over at Lana once more. "What are you in here for?"

"I'm gay." Lana shrugged as she set alit another cigarette.

/

"Delusional," Lana said aloud as she sat alone in her cell after lights out. "Delusional. In denial. Mourning. Grieving..." Lana trailed off before she started up again. "Pretty." The reporter smirked. "Pretty. Tall. Blonde. Warm," Lana hummed softly with a smile, before her face turned sour with disgust.

"Christian."

She was trying to figure Mary out. She'd always liked a good mystery but she had never been able to solve one as complex as Mary Eunice. Was she married? No, she wore no wedding ring. They allowed the inmates to wear wedding rings if they owned them- wedding vows were, after all, vows of the church. Lana hazarded a guess that she was here in delusion. Seeing her dead brother wherever she went was a sign of insanity. But wouldn't it pass? Wasn't that normal, for her to miss her brother?

Lana concluded that Mary Eunice was alike her; unfitting and not belonging in this place.

/

"Hi,"

Lana looked up to see Mary hovering over her shoulder, with a smile like sunshine and hair draped over one of her shoulders.

"Hey," Lana said, before moving along to let Mary sit. "How're you doing?"

"Well, I hate it here," Mary laughed in spite of herself.

"Really, it's recently gotten a little better for me." The reporter said slyly as she trailed her eyes over Mary's body, resisting a small smile.

"Oh how come?" Mary Eunice asked as she looked innocently at Lana.

The reporter shrugged. "You're here."

The blonde looked shocked. "Is that a compliment?" She asked curiously, lifting an eyebrow. Lana herself was taken aback by the girl's forward comment.

"Perhaps," the brunette lit yet another cigarette and drew in some smoke.

Mary smiled confidently. "Well I'll see you later then, Lana, I have bakery duty in about 10 minutes, and I don't want to be late!" The blonde left, but not before planting a chaste kiss on Lana's cheek- leaving a warmth which soared straight into Lana's soul. The reporter was stunned but managed to snap her head to watch Mary's retreating figure. Maybe Briarcliff wasn't going to be so boring after all.


	12. Winter Winds

**Prompt: Bananun teenage!au, lana being confused about her feeling for her best friend Mary. **

**Also**

**Prompt: Mary has feelings for Lana and she is really confused so she speaks to sister jude about it. **

**Thank you for the prompt(s). Sorry I had to combine these two as I just can't write AU to save my life, I hope you don't mind. **

You'll pray to the God that you've always denied

Briarcliff was paralysed by time. It's historic grey walls, dripped with the terrors of the past, the present and the probable future. All the while, nothing within the toxic doors modernised or moved with time, this included everything about the patients there. Although the young grew slowly into the old, worn down people already committed in a sort of sick cycle- their morals and views were the same as the older generation.

[[READ MORE]]

This irked Mary Eunice. Surely the youth, with their music and fashion which was normally a crime to the old, should have dissimilar views about life, war, love? This obviously wasn't the case in Briarcliff- Mary couldn't vouch for those in reality.

/

The nun completed her rounds with ease, a routine set into her mind by habit. Finally, she arrived at the cell of Lana Winters. Mary's heart beat increased 10 fold, much to her dismay. The nun had no idea as to why her pulse betrayed her every belief- so she ignored it, blaming it on nerves or some other unbelievable lie.

Opening the heavy door, Mary revealed a reporter, looking beaten and worn, yet she still held a fire in her eyes that even the devil couldn't claim. Mary smiled, not only at Lana's strong spirit, but just at the woman in general. She needed to let her know that she wasn't here to hurt her- she _craved_ Lana's trust and kindness. It was the one rule Mary was willing to break, "to not become friends with the inmates", if it meant Lana's affection and friendship. Mary didn't know why she was prepared to go against a law just to get closer to Lana. She figured it didn't matter.

"Hi miss Winters, are you almost ready for lights out?" Mary asked with a smile on her face. She had a regular smile, for the patients- but then she had a smile reserved solely for Lana.

"Yeah, sure," Lana shrugged as she climbed into the bed. Mary's eyes refused to shift from Lana's legs as her cotton nightgown inched further up her thighs. Mary grew flustered.

"Are you cold?! I could get you another blanket if you wish," the nun said quickly. Lana looked up at her, confused, as she settled down.

"No, this is fine thanks. I didn't think you were allowed to give me special treatment. Like, any of the patients?" Lana asked with a furrowed brow.

"You're right. I'm not. I'm sorry. I'll see you tomorrow Miss Winters," Mary Eunice spoke almost robotically, which naturally Lana picked up on. The reporter got out of bed again and walked over quickly to the nun, who had turned around to leave. "What's wrong Miss Winters?"

"I think I should be asking what's wrong with you, sister," Lana said confidently.

"M-me? I'm fine,"

"But sister..." Lana clasped Mary's hands between her own and pressing them against Lana's chest. "Your hands are like ice! Perhaps you could warm up in bed with me?" Lana smiled kindly, although her eyes held mischief. She wouldn't try anything with the nun of course- she was merely trying to get to the bottom of the mystery as to why Mary became so flushed around her.

"As I said, I'm fine, thank you," Mary's cheeks burned and her heart was ready to pounce out her chest. Why did a simple touch of Lana's hand make her feel this way? And why did Lana pressing their hands to her chest cause butterflies to be born in the pit of her stomach? Mary didn't like this feeling. It was foreign, and unwanted.

But she wanted more of Lana, and she hated that more.

"Are you sure, you're a bit flushed," Lana stroked Mary's cheek with her thumb. "Perhaps it's because your naturally rosy. It's cute, you know. Your cheeks and-" Lana licked her lips, "-your lips," the reporter feigned innocence with a small smile.

"T-thank you," Mary whispered, stuttering slightly.

Lana nodded slightly as she leaned in quickly and pressed a chaste kiss to Mary's lips. Mary gasped, but pressed her lips back against Lana's. She hesitantly placed her hands on Lana's waist as the reporter linked her fingers around the nun's neck. Lana's lips moved against Mary's with more passion and the blonde reciprocated. Mary moaned softly, before breaking the kiss and gasping- frozen to the spot, like a rabbit caught in headlights. Lana looked at her for a moment, concerned, before Mary's heart started beating once more, and reality dawned on her.

"Goodnight Miss Winters!" Mary squeaked, as she jumped slightly out of Lana's grasp and out of the reporter's cell door. Lana smirked at the empty doorway as she left. The bride of Christ had just experienced an awakening.

/

"Sister Jude?" Mary knocked on the head nun's door- remembering her reprimand for forgetting last time.

"Come in," came a hoarse reply. Mary gulped as she opened the wooden door.

"Sister Jude, may I speak to you?" Mary asked timidly.

"Ah sister Mary Eunice!" Jude looked up from her desk. Her accent was thick but her demeanour was harsher- the woman was tarnished, stone cold in the scarce morning light. Mary admired her though, despite the fear she felt crawling down her spine.

"Sister, I must confess something to you," Mary bowed her head as she came and sat down in front of Jude's desk.

"Is it something Arden has done? Because I swear that man-"

"No, sister, Dr Arden is quite pleasant. No, sister Jude this is about something I have done. I have sinned," Mary felt tears in her eyes as she recalled memories from last nights rounds. More specifically with Lana Winters. The nun hadn't been able to sleep, the feel of Lana's fingers dancing around her neck or the soft touch of her lips to her own, it made Mary crave more. And it frightened her more than Jude.

"Tell me, Mary Eunice," Jude furrowed her brow and softened her eyes- something she did for no one other than Mary. The younger nun found comfort in Jude, she had always been so wise...

"Last night, I-" Mary started to cry. "I went to do my rounds. And when I went to Miss Winter's cell-"

"What has that damned woman done now?!" Jude's expression completely changed to one of anger.

"-No! No please sister Jude, miss Winters has done nothing wrong! It was me. I think I feel something for her. The way a woman is supposed to feel- supposed to feel about a man," Mary trailed off towards the end. However, Jude's face remained unchanged, yet she placed a comforting hand on Mary's shoulder and kissed her softly on the forehead.

"Do you want to get locked up in here?" Jude asked quietly.

Mary's tear filled eyes widened. "No! Of course not, I don't belong here,"

Jude nodded slowly. "Then keep quiet. And I shan't tell anyone we had this conversation. No one but God shall know,"

Mary was struck into silence. "I'm sorry, I don't understand-"

"-sister Mary Eunice. Why is it that Miss Winters is in here?" Jude asked solemnly. Mary thought for a moment, before wild, terrified eyes looked at the older nun as terrible truth caught up with the younger blonde.

Jude nodded. "As I said, we shall never speak of this again,"

Mary stood up quickly and nodded frantically back. "Thank you so much sister Jude,"

Mary left the room with worry in her mind and Lana in her soul. God was no where to be found.


	13. Letters to Mary

**So these weren't requested or anything but they're basically a series of snippets written by Lana Winters to Mary Eunice over the timeline of asylum. I hope you enjoy, I loved writing them!**

**_Letters to Mary_**

1)

Dear Sister Mary Eunice,

God knows why I've addressed this letter to you and not my Wendy. Perhaps it's because your polar opposites in appearance, or maybe it's simply because you were the nicest to me here. Either way these raindrops of ink will never truly reach your eyes so it doesn't really matter.

"What are these letters for?" I hear you ask in my mind. Well Mary, they're simply to get the thoughts out of my head; I have seen too many people here drowning in their minds and I have no desire to become like them. Crazy, delusional, mental. That would give me a reason to belong here and God knows I don't.

I suppose you know all about God, with your crucifix and innocence. You're angelic I must admit. I was awestruck with you from the moment I saw you- your habit draining the sun's light for itself, yet you yourself outshining all stars. I hope you know you're beautiful, Mary, God knows I do. You're real pretty.

Some of us aren't as holy and rare as you though, Mary. Sister Jude, for example. I know how you fear her- but I see the admiration in your eyes too. Not for me, I hate her to the core. She tricked my Wendy into locking me up here and she has no regrets about it. She's a replica of all things evil; a sadistic bitch who hides behind a stain-glass curtain.

Much like you, I suppose. Although you're not evil, how could you be? You've embodied charity and love and I really admire you for that, I do.

I'm sorry if I'm burdening you with my letters Mary, but I realise now that I wrote this to you because I feel like you'll listen. You're so kind, Mary, so kind. And pure. You need to keep that purity, it's so valuable. Oh God, you're in my head already. I need to stop writing now, I've become too soppy. I'm going to stay strong. And I'm getting out.

Until my next bleed,

Lana.

/

2)

Dear the Virgin Mary,

I chose a name befitting to your persona, it makes me feel more clever- and also less guilty about burdening you with my letters.

I hope you're doing okay here, I hope you still have your light. For your sake, I hope that Sister Jude hasn't done anything to upset you because let's be honest you don't really deserve it. I haven't seen you in a while- I heard you fainted or something. I was going to come to the hospital but I realised that I don't really know you that well so it would've been strange. But fear not Mary, I will do whatever it takes to make sure that little bird in your chest still beats his wings.

I'm sorry if I've become too affectionate. I'll try and stop. I suppose you're waiting for me to talk about myself, well... Truth is I'm awful. I don't have to explain what you already know. I see you condemn it, you know. I watch as you frown as a patient is mistreated or a new torture is allowed. I just want to let you know I'm glad of your humanity. No one else seems to have it here.

But you're not just human, Mary, you're a god damned Saint. Every thing about you just radiates light. The valued kind, and I may tolerate this world of darkness for the sake of your shine.

Thank you for being here for me. I would never admit this, but writing to you helps me breathe. I flow with my pen, I always have. And I fear that one day when my ink dries out it may just take me with it and I'll be nothing left but a shrivelled old lady, rocking manically in my wheelchair, trapped in this asylum (hopefully with you), dammed to be listening to Dominique with nothing to soothe my tarnished soul.

What am I talking about? You'll just get me another pen if I ask nicely.

Until the ink runs smooth

Yours sincerely, Lana.

/

3)

Dearest Eve,

You're tainted now, I can tell. And not just in the extra swing of your hips or the mischievous curve of your smile, but in your eyes. They used to hold a calm spring breeze but now they hold terrible storms, and one day I fear the rain will pour to flood and take me with it, a washed up woman with drowning lungs and sodden paper. It's empowering, sure, but I miss how you used to be.

As for me, I'm yet to be caught in your winds. Therapy with Threadson isn't really working, but I'll lie (sorry "thou shalt not lie" but it's the lesser of two evils) and I'll do anything else that can get me out of this horrid place.

I saw you today, for the first time in a while (that's how I noticed your small changes). I'd forgotten just how affected I am by you, but sometimes I think of you as more than a girl. And you're not so remind me to stop my stupid metaphors. I don't like it.

I wish you were in my cell with me now, it's the worst at night. I sleep rough, my nightmares are constantly waking me yet I find no relief in being conscious. But if you were here... Oh my god. I just really need you Mary. I need you more than the moon needs the sun and that may sound like hyperbole but it's not. It's just the simple truth. I would do or give anything to feel the touch of your pale, porcelain hand in my cold, dirt covered one- it would be similar to a much welcomed breath of air in my aching lungs. You'd blame my struggle to breathe on my smoking though- too modest to recognise it as your own touch.

Can I tell you these words one day instead of scrawling them out?

Love,

Lana.

P.s. I chose Eve from the bible, I thought you'd appreciate it, being Catholic and all. It's befitting to how I see you now too- you seem to be different.

/

4)

Dear Lucifer,

It's strange how you've changed completely and yet I still find a comfort in writing to you. Perhaps it's because I've grown to adore you. Who knows? I don't.

Reporter's instinct has led me to become curious about what's changed you. Once upon a time you were sister Mary Eunice with nothing in your soul but good and now you've become a corrupted, sly being with a terrible knack for complete destruction. You remind me of a fallen angel- no longer on your pedestal of perfection and crashing your way down to earth like the rest of us mere mortals. Much like Lucifer (hence your name at the start of this letter. See, I'm clever!)

Or perhaps you just got a wake-up call and realised you need to play the game like the rest of us.

Next time you fall from paradise, make sure a blade takes me with you, and I will happily hang from the broken ceiling fan just to see your innocent self again.

Although your new persona isn't an improvement, it certainly helps your sex appeal. Jesus Christ, Mary, today when I had you up against the cold brick wall I wanted to do nothing other than take you, there and then. The feel of your body pressed against mine sent warm heat through my core and I'm sure you felt one too. Your eyes give you away, they always have done.

Of course, then you called for the guards to boil me in hydrotherapy and the moment was kind of ruined.

I wonder if anyone else has noticed the fact you've become more sly, wicked and damn right evil. I'm still undecided as to wether it's an improvement myself. But you're confusing sometimes, Mary, I see the conflict in between your eyes- as if you're battling a raging war with yourself. Your soldiers are fighting admirably, I can tell, yet it's futile.

The war has changed us all, Mary.

Inevitably, your army will turn on itself and no one will be there to comfort the broken; to comfort you.

I will be, of course, but you won't accept my help. Not now, not ever.

You've become distant from everyone and everything, (I saw this theory in your eyes too- I might as well call these letters "a study in blue" at the way I'm withering on about your irises), I watched as by each passing day you've become more cold and isolated. You still creep like a feline and yet you're lonely. I'm waiting for the day that the ice in your once warm veins will reach your heart and you will do nothing but drown in your own loneliness as your cardiac muscle shatters into shards of broken ice.

Not that it matters; they're only stupid metaphors I create with the intention to be pretentious. You're strong as steel now, Mary, aren't you?

And that gives me joy, Mary. It does, truly. You're standing up to sister bitch and Arden and all others you once let stampede over your limp, lifeless body, snapping your spine with their heavy weight of cruelty. But not anymore.

I should probably stop writing now. I can hear you outside my cell. Isn't that weird? I'm writing to you, yet you're outside, oblivious. Huh. So here are my final words:

I hope you've truly become horrid because I've been told that only the good die young and I kind of want you to live forever. Even though I'm sure you hate me, I can't help but lov- like you. This isn't healthy, this figure of you I've conjured up isn't an accurate perception of Mary Eunice McKee.

But so much ink has been wasted on you already, so why stop now?

Until the ink runs dry,

Love, Lana.

/

5)

My Dearest St. Euphemia,

My God, what have we become?

Well, when I say "we" I mean "me" because you're dead now.

The answer is: a wreck. I've become a sodden, pitiful girl with a desire to do nothing more than think of you.

They say you died an instant death, falling from the 3rd floor is a rush of tears, fright and bitter longings. I wonder if when your fragile frame hit the harsh, cold floor, accompanied with a chill and the bolt of death up your spine that it felt particularly instantaneous. I highly doubt it.

I hate you, Mary. I think of you and tears form in my eyes, harsh and hot because _you left me here. _

_You left me here_, Mary, and I _loathe_ you for it. But then I think back, and for my heart to be feeling like it's being torn in half and my lungs screeching for air upon hearing of you death, I must've felt something more than hate and distrust.

I must've loved you, I think. Now that they've taken you from me and I have lost you forever.

I hope he's treating you well up there. And by "Him" I mean God. If he exists. I don't know, but you seemed to be hypnotised by the myth so I'm hoping for your sake.

A last favour.

By God, I keep replaying it. Your death, I mean. Your habit flowing through the air easily, as if it were accustomed to flight. You face, still beautiful, yet frozen, as your eyes saw nothing but white and your heart dropping through your stomach until your back shattered when you hit the ground.

I bet you were a constant state of grace, you always were.

To conclude, Mary, this is how I am (you always loved to ask): mourning over a dead girl with hair as rare as gold and pining all of my feelings into a scrappy piece of paper which you have no way of reading. Not that you ever would've read them anyway.

I just want to say that I'm sorry, Mary, for... Well everything I suppose. If there's anything you feel I should apologise for, here it is. Even though you yourself was a real bitch sometimes. I still hope you'll forgive me, one day.

And I miss you so terribly that grief is consuming my entire being and I won't be surprised if all that's left of me is an empty shell of a woman still grieving over you.

I loved you one hell of a lot, Mary, truly.

My pen's running out, yet you're not here to give me another.

This isn't goodbye.

Love and miss you,

Lana.

/

6)

(2012)

Dear whoever you once were,

I stumbled across these and felt inclined to write you a farewell.

I found my fame. That's all you really need to know. You've been dead considerably longer than you'd been alive and the world has changed plenty, carrying me with it. I'm sorry you couldn't see it for yourself.

Sister Mary Eunice. My God, I haven't scrawled that name out in a long time. It still hurts plenty though, I ache when I think of you. I'll force myself through the pain though, don't worry. You deserve this goodbye. I'm sorry I haven't said it sooner.

My girlfriend doesn't know about you, but I'm not going to apologise for that. I don't regret not mentioning you. After all, if you roll into a conversation like stormy clouds dragging with you my past, then you're the start of an oncoming storm and I won't be able to stop myself thinking of Briarcliff. All you need to know, Mary is that you are a corpse and she is a living girl and yet I love you more than I can ever love her. Please do not forget that. I shan't.

Wow, it's just hit me how much I actually really miss you. I used to dwell on the thought of you so much when I was younger that I forgot to live. You're dead, it wasn't fair for you to alter me like that- life is for the alive, Mary. I'm sitting her now thinking "Jesus Christ." I'm getting sad again, and it's all your fault. It always is. There will never come a day when I won't remember your soul thieving eyes or the way you used to laugh at Pepper when she would hug you tight.

It's strange to recall how I used to live for those moments, how I used to live for you.

I still regret the day my heart broke and yours stopped, but I hope the last breath of air you whisked was worthy of a fleeting thought of me.

Anyway, it was nice writing to you again. I don't know where you are, but I hope it's nice and I'm looking forward to meeting you again soon; wherever that may be.

For what it's worth, I would've loved you until the end.

Sister Mary Eunice, goodbye.

Lana.


End file.
